&*  r*\JM 


XAVIER 
>AOLI 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  Of 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


-C 


QUEEN    AM  ELI  E    OF   PORTUGAL 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS 
I  KNEW  THEM 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE 
KINGS    AND     QUEENS    OF    EUROPE 


BY 

XAVIER   PAOLI 


TRANSLATED  INTO  ENGLISH  BY 

A.  TEIXEIRA  DE  MATTOS 


ILLUSTRATED 


Hew 

STURGIS  &  WALTON 

COMPANY 

1911 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright  1911 
By  STURG1S  &  WALTON  COMPANY 

Set  up  and  electrolysed-     Published  March,  1011 


M.   XAVIER    PAOLI 


INTRODUCTION 

M.  XAVIER  PAOLI 

THE  "CHAMBERLAIN"  OF  THE  FRENCH  REPUBLIC 
AND  THE  FRIEND  OF  SOVEREIGNS 

IT  was  in  1903,  and  the  King  of  England  was 
making  his  first  official  journey  in  France  since 
succeeding  Queen  Victoria  on  the  throne  of 
Great  Britain.  In  the  court  of  the  British  Em- 
bassy in  Paris,  where  the  sovereign  had  taken  up 
his  residence,  a  group  of  journalists,  pencil  and 
notebook  in  hand,  was  crowding  importunate, 
full  of  questions,  around  a  vivacious  little  gentle- 
man, very  precisely  dressed  in  black,  wearing  the 
red  rosette  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  in  the  button- 
hole of  his  silk-faced  frock  coat.  An  impressive 
silk  hat,  slightly  tipped,  sheltered  a  head  of  abun- 
dant wavy  white  hair,  strikingly  in  contrast  with 
the  man's  still  youthful  appearance;  at  the  utmost 
he  seemed  to  be  hardly  fifty  years  old. 

His  aristocratic  bearing  might  have  been  that  of 
a  diplomat  of  the  Empire  or  a  Tuscan  aristocrat. 
The  sensitve  features  of  his  finely  oval  face — the 


vi  INTRODUCTION 

straight,  delicately  formed  nose,  the  piercing  eyes, 
now  bright  with  shrewd  humour,  now  soft  with 
gentle  sympathy — all  spoke  the  judicial  mind,  the 
penetrating  observation,  which  could  scrutinise  the 
most  secret  thoughts,  recognise  the  slightest  shades 
of  feeling. 

Calmly,  manfully,  smilingly,  with  courtesy,  the 
little  gentleman  sustained  the  assault  of  the  re- 
porters and  warded  off  their  indiscreet  curios- 
ity. 

"What  did  the  King  say  to  M.  Loubet?" 

"Gentlemen,  the  King  has  told  me  none  of  his 
secrets." 

"Did  he  not  come  for  the  purpose  of  completing 
a  treaty  of  military  alliance  with  us,  and  is  he  not 
to  have  this  evening  an  important  interview  with 
the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs?" 

"His  Majesty  had  a  very  comfortable  journey, 
is  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  appears  to  be  delighted 
to  be  in  Paris." 

"But—" 

"His  Majesty  brought  with  him  his  little  griffon 
dog,  and  immediately  on  arriving  he  asked  for  port 
wine  and  sandwiches." 

"I  beg-" 

"I  may  even  say  that  the  King  will  go  to  hear 
Sarah  Bernhardt  this  evening,  and  that  at  the 
present  moment  he  is  busy  with  his  secretary  look- 


INTRODUCTION  vii 

ing  over  the  voluminous  mail  which  has  just  ar- 
rived from  London.  In  fact — " 

"Pardon  me — is  it  true  that  yesterday  you  ar- 
rested some  suspected  anarchists?" 

"Anarchists?  What  are  they?"  And  with 
these  words  the  little  gentleman  still  smiling  turned 
away,  to  the  discomfiture  of  the  journalists,  while 
certain  English  and  French  officers  who,  full  of 
excitement,  were  crossing  the  great  court,  saluted 
him  with  courteous  deference. 

This  little  gentleman,  whom  I  then  saw  for  the 
first  time,  was  M.  Xavier  Paoli. 

When  the  time  comes  for  writing  the  history  of 
the  Third  French  Republic — not  its  political  his- 
tory, which  is  already  sufficiently  well  known,  but 
the  other,  its  picturesque,  anecdotic,  private  his- 
tory, that  which  must  be  sought  behind  the  scenes 
of  a  government,  and  shows  the  little  causes  which 
often  produced  the  great  effects — when  that  his- 
tory comes  to  be  written,  it  is  certain  that  a  long 
chapter  and  perhaps  the  most  interesting,  will  be 
devoted  to  M.  Paoli. 

He  is,  in  fact,  a  unique  and  singular  character, 
a  personage  "apart,"  extraordinarily  attractive, 
somewhat  disconcerting,  but  wonderfully  interest- 
ing in  the  group  of  French  functionaries  who  have 
rendered  real  and  precious  service  to  their  coun- 
try. His  official  title  was  until  very  recently,  and 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

had  been  for  twenty-five  years,  that  of  Special 
Commissioner  of  Railways  for  the  Ministry  of  the 
Interior.  This  title,  somewhat  commonplace,  is  in 
itself  intentionally  obscure,  tells  nothing  of  the 
man  or  his  office.  The  old  proverb  says:  "The 
habit  does  not  make  the  monk,"  and  it  may  here 
be  added  that  the  title  does  not  always  designate 
the  function.  Attached  to  the  political  police,  but 
in  no  respect  appearing  like  a  policeman,  a  sort 
of  Sherlock  Holmes,  but  a  very  high  and  particular 
ideal  of  Sherlock  Holmes  until  now  unknown,  M. 
Paoli's  three-fold  and  delicate  mission  was  to  watch 
over  the  foreign  sovereigns  and  princes  who  for 
the  past  twenty-five  years  had  been  coming  to 
France  incognito,  to  facilitate  their  relations  with 
the  government,  and  on  the  whole,  to  quote  M. 
Paoli's  own  words  "to  make  their  stay  among  us 
as  pleasant  as  possible."  "The  guardian  of 
Kings,"  as  the  King  of  Greece  one  day  called  him, 
was  at  the  same  time  a  keen  diplomat.  He,  in 
fact,  personified  and  filled  an  office  which,  notwith- 
standing its  paradoxical  aspect,  proved  to  be  of 
incontestible  utility:  he  was  the  Grand  Chamber- 
lain of  the  Republic,  accredited  to  its  imperial  and 
royal  guests. 

How  was  he  brought  to  take  up  this  important 
and  difficult  duty?  How  did  he  come  to  have  all 
the  necessary  qualities  to  perform  it,  as  he  did, 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

with  equally  remarkable  facility,  ease  and  tact? 
Psychology  makes  answer  that  motives  must  be 
sought  in  the  origin,  the  early  experience  and  sub- 
sequent career  of  the  personality  with  whom  we 
are  concerned. 

Like  the  great  Napoleon,  for  whom  he  has  al- 
ways felt  a  touching  adoration,  M.  Paoli  is  a  Cor- 
sican.  He  was  born  in  1835  at  La  Porta,  a  pic- 
turesque little  town  perched  like  an  eagle's  nest 
on  the  crest  of  a  hill  on  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
island,  overlooking  the  sea,  with  the  Island  of 
Elba  and  the  coast  of  Tuscany  in  the  distance. 
His  ancestor  was  that  celebrated  and  fiery  Gen- 
eral Paoli,  who  at  the  close  of  the  previous  cen- 
tury stirred  up  a  patriotic  agitation  in  Corsica; 
on  his  mother's  side  he  was  a  descendant  of  Mar- 
shal Sebastiani,  who  was  ambassador  and  minis- 
ter of  Foreign  Affairs  in  the  reign  of  Louis 
Philippe.  From  his  earliest  youth,  Xavier  Paoli, 
like  all  Corsicans  was  passionately  interested  in 
politics.  In  1859  a  decree  of  the  Emperor  Napo- 
leon III,  who  greatly  esteemed  this  honourable  and 
popular  family,  nominated  young  Paoli  mayor  of 
La  Porta.  According  to  custom  the  young  official 
went  to  Ajaccio  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  Prefect. 
This  high  functionary,  on  perceiving  him,  could  not 
conceal  his  surprise. 

"I  am  much  pleased  to  make  your  acquaintance, 


x  INTRODUCTION 

young  man,"  he  said,  "but  I  had  supposed  that 
your  father  would  come  himself." 

"The  trouble  is  that  my  father  has  been  dead  for 
several  years." 

"What!     He  has  not  just  now  been  nominated 
mayor  of  La  Porta?" 

"No,  Mr.  Prefect,  it  was  I." 

He  was  only  twenty-five  years  old. 

Two  years  later,  being  elected  Councillor  Gen- 
eral of  his  canton,  he  united  the  two  functions, 
giving  to  his  fellow  citizens  an  example  of  pre- 
cocious administrative  ability  and  a  keen  apprecia- 
tion of  the  interests  of  his  constituents.  Local 
politics,  however,  "does  not  feed  its  men"  as  the 
proverb  says,  especially  when  like  M.  Paoli,  the 
politician  is  thoroughly  disinterested.  The  Paoli 
family  had  long  been  engaged  in  the  oil  trade,  but 
the  business  which  once  brought  in  a  comfortable 
livelihood  had  been  declining,  having  been  carried 
on  with  less  perseverance  and  attention  than  for- 
merly. Young  Paoli  perceived  that  he  must  not 
count  upon  the  family  business  to  make  his  for- 
tune; in  fact,  politics  were  swallowing  up  his 
modest  revenue.  He,  therefore,  resolved  to  alter 
his  plan  of  life,  to  leave  the  island  where  he  had 
achieved  a  precocious  popularity,  where  he  was  es- 
teemed and  beloved. 

His  friends  in  Paris  proposed  to  obtain  for  him 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

an  under-prefecture,  but  he  preferred  a  simple  post 
of  Police  Magistrate  at  1800  francs,  to  the  great 
scandal  of  his  family,  who  considered  him  to  have 
lowered  himself  on  entering  the  police  service. 

"Let  me  alone,"  replied  M.  Paoli,  "I  feel  that 
my  future  is  at  stake,  and  that  I  shall  be  safer 
in  being  inconspicuous." 

And,  in  fact,  when,  four  years  later,  the  Em- 
pire fell,  it  was  due  to  the  modesty  of  M.  Paoli's 
position  that  he  was  not  involved  in  the  fall.  At 
the  time  he  was  police  commissary  in  the  railway 
station  at  Modena  on  the  Italian  frontier,  and  he 
had  the  tact  to  make  himself  so  useful  to  the  new 
Prefect  that  although  he  by  no  means  paid  court 
to  the  new  government,  like  so  many  others,  the 
latter  was  glad  to  confirm  him  in  his  functions. 
The  Modena  station  was  an  important  outpost  of 
observation  and  inspection  on  the  great  European 
highway,  princes  incognito,  statesmen  on  their 
travels,  Italian  anarchists  leaving  their  country  on 
some  mysterious  mission — all  passed  that  way. 
Not  one  of  them  escaped  M.  Paoli's  vigilant  eye. 
This  humble  position  afforded  him  the  opportunity 
to  show  his  great  qualifications  of  perspicacity  and 
tact.  He  was  sent  to  Nice,  and  other  cosmopolitan 
centres,  where  all  classes  and  peoples  meet  and 
mingle ;  before  long  he  was  called  to  Paris.  It  was 
at  this  juncture,  and  thanks  to  Queen  Victoria, 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

that  his  mission  as  "Guardian  of  Kings"  became 
clear. 

The  French  Republic  was  at  that  time  by  no 
means  "persona  grata"  at  foreign  courts.  The 
daughter  of  the  Commune  of  1871,  her  cap  still 
vaguely  besmirched,  her  acts  problematical,  they 
were  all  afraid  of  her,  hardly  daring  to  receive  or 
to  visit  her.  And  yet  some  line  of  conduct  must 
be  adopted:  it  was  not  possible  always  to  keep  un- 
der ban  the  lovely  land  of  France. 

A  little  King  of  no  importance — I  think  it  was 
the  King  of  Wurtemburg — was  the  first  to  risk 
himself  among  us.  He  was  M.  Paoli's  first  client. 

When  at  last  the  Queen  of  England,  upon  the 
advice  of  her  physicians,  decided  to  exchange  the 
chill  banks  of  the  Thames  for  the  sunny  gardens 
of  the  Cote  d'Azur,  it  was  to  M.  Paoli  that  the 
government  of  the  Republic  intrusted  the  duty  of 
doing  the  honours  of  the  French  territory  and  as- 
suring her  safety  during  her  sojourn  among  us. 
He  acquitted  himself  of  this  delicate  task  with 
such  success  as  immediately  gained  the  confidence 
of  the  venerable  Queen  to  such  an  extent  that  she 
desired  her  ambassador  to  write  to  the  French 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  that  thenceforth  she 
wished  that  no  other  functionary  than  M.  Paoli 
should  watch  over  her  during  her  visits  to  France. 
Each  year,  therefore,  she  found  him  faithful  to 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

his  charge,  awaiting  her  arrival  either  at  Cherbourg 
or  Calais. 

From  this  time,  M.  Paoli  became  the  indispen- 
sable personage  for  all  the  sovereigns  and  princes 
who  undertook  to  visit  our  country,  and  therefore 
indispensable  to  the  Republican  government,  who 
found  in  M.  Paoli  a  perfect  intermediary  between 
itself  and  them.  During  twenty-five  years  he 
successively  escorted  to  our  watering  places  and 
seashore  resorts  fifteen  emperors  or  kings,  half  a 
dozen  empresses  and  queens,  and  countless  num- 
bers of  princes  of  the  blood,  grand  dukes  and  other 
princely  globe  trotters.  He  was  admitted  to  their 
confidences,  understood  their  impressions.  To 
most  of  them,  who  continually  saw  our  ministers 
appear  and  disappear,  and  who  each  time  they 
came  received  the  homage  of  new  personages,  M. 
Paoli  personified  the  Republic  which,  with  what- 
ever petty  quarrels  and  changes  of  officials,  was 
always  calm  and  smiling  to  its  guests  in  the  draw- 
ing-room. France,  indeed,  profited  by  the  precious 
friendship  which  M.  Paoli  won  for  himself.  "He 
is  a  model  functionary,  he  has  made  the  Republic 
beloved  by  Kings,"  exclaimed  M.  Felix  Faure  one 
day  in  my  presence.  And  I  remember  another 
striking  reflection  of  the  regretted  President. 

As  he  came  out  of  the  hotel  of  the  Empress  of 
Austria  where  he  had  been  visiting  at  Cap  Mar- 


xiv  INTRODUCTION 

tin,  some  one  asked  him  what  had  been  the  subject 
of  his  interview  with  the  sovereign. 

"The  Empress,  gentlemen,  spoke  of  nothing  ex- 
cept of  M.  Paoli,  whose  courtesy  and  tact  she 
praised  without  reserve." 

What  tribute  could  have  been  more  flattering, 
indeed,  than  the  invitation  which  he  received  from 
Queen  Victoria  to  be  present  at  her  jubilee,  and 
to  accept  the  hospitality  of  Buckingham  Palace? 
And  after  her  death  the  royal  family  begged  him 
to  be  present  at  her  obsequies,  and  during  all  the 
sad  solemnities  treated  him  as  a  faithful  and  de- 
voted friend. 

And  finally,  what  finer  recognition  of  the  "Pro- 
tector of  Sovereigns"  than  the  remark  of  the  King 
of  England — then  the  Prince  of  Wales — when  in 
the  railway  station  of  Brussels  he  was  fired  upon 
by  the  young  anarchist  Sipido — "If  Paoli  had  been 
here,"  he  said,  "the  rascal  would  have  been  arrested 
before  he  could  use  his  weapon." 

In  fact,  M.  Paoli  was  always  able  to  shield  his 
clients  from  painful  surprises  and  dramatic  dan- 
gers. His  art  was  always  to  appear  ignorant  of 
the  fact  that  there  were  anarchists  in  the  world, 
while  at  the  saim-  time  keeping  them  constantly 
under  the  strictest  watch.  I  believe  that  he  was 
popular  even  among  them,  and  that  their  esteem 
for  this  just  and  good  man  was  so  great  that  they 


INTRODUCTION  ry 

would  not,  for  anything  in  the  world,  have  caused 
him — annoyance  I 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  he  never  carried  a 
weapon.  The  King  of  Siam  was  greatly  discon- 
certed when  he  learned  that  M.  Paoli  had  been 
charged  to  protect  him  during  his  visit  to  France 
in  1896. 

"But  where  are  your  pistols  and  your  poniards?" 
he  would  ask  him  every  few  minutes. 

M.  Paoli  appears  to  cherish  no  vanity  on  account 
of  the  august  interest  with  which  he  has  been  hon- 
oured, and  the  important  part  which  during 
twenty-five  years  he  has  performed  with  as  much 
intelligence  as  precision.  He  is  still  the  affable 
and  simple  man  which  he  always  was.  He  may 
be  the  most  decorated  functionary  in  France — he 
possesses  forty-two  foreign  decorations — but  these 
seem  to  make  him  neither  prouder  nor  happier. 
His  only  joy  is  to  live  quietly  in  his  retreat,  among 
his  memories.  His  very  modest  apartment  is  a 
museum  such  as  has  no  equal,  harbouring  all  the 
sovereigns  of  yesterday  and  of  to-day.  Alphonso 
XIII  and  his  young  wife  are  in  company  with 
the  royal  pair  of  Italy,  the  Emperor  of  Russia 
seems  to  be  conversing  with  the  Emperor  of  Aus- 
tria, the  Queen  of  Saxony  receives  the  salutation 
of  the  King  of  the  Bulgarians,  while  listening  to 
the  poems  which  the  Queen  of  Roumania  appears 


xvi  INTRODUCTION 

to  be  reciting  to  her.  The  aged  King  Christian 
is  smiling  upon  his  innumerable  grand-children, 
the  Prince  of  Wales  is  talking  with  his  son,  the 
Shah  of  Persia  gazes  upon  the  Bey  of  Tunis;  and 
dominating  all  these  crowned  heads,  the  good 
Queen  Victoria  smiling  from  her  golden  frame, 
looks  happily  around  upon  all  her  family.  To 
these  photographs,  each  with  its  precious  auto- 
graph, are  added  most  touching  testimonials  of 
affection  and  esteem,  letters  entirely  written  by 
sovereign  hands,  jewels  of  inestimable  price,  the 
gifts  of  august  clients.  M.  Paoli  is  in  fact  the 
only  Frenchman  who  can  at  one  time  wear  a  cravat 
pin  given  by  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  a  watch 
offered  by  the  King  of  Greece,  a  chain  presented 
by  Queen  Victoria,  a  cane  from  the  King  of 
Sweden,  a  cigarette  holder  from  the  Emperor  of 
Russia,  a  match  box  from  the  King  of  England, 
and — I  cease,  for  the  list  would  be  interminable. 

As  may  easily  be  perceived,  the  "Guardian  of 
Kings"  has  often  been  asked  to  write  his  memoirs. 
One  cannot  have  been  intimate  with  sovereigns  for 
twenty-five  years  and  not  have  a  whole  book — 
many  volumes,  indeed — of  impressions  and  mem- 
ories in  the  brain.  But  precisely  because  he  has 
been  the  travelling  companion  of  illustrious  guests 
of  the  nation,  he  has  believed  himself  bound  to 
absolute  silence  and  a  perhaps  excessive  discretion. 


INTRODUCTION  xvii 

Happily,  arguments  have  at  last  prevailed  over 
these  exaggerated  scruples.  M.  Paoli  has  come  to 
perceive  that  by  relating  his  personal  recollections, 
he  would  be  making  a  useful  contribution  to  the 
history  of  our  time,  correcting  many  errors  which 
have  slipped  voluntarily  or  involuntarily  into  ac- 
counts of  certain  contemporary  sovereigns. 

M.  Paoli  has  therefore  yielded  to  persuasion, 
and  has  committed  to  writing  the  story  of  his  many 
journeys  in  the  company  of  Kings,  reviving  his 
memories  of  former  days.  I  have  been  happy  in 
collaborating  with  this  interesting  and  charming 
man,  and  I  hope  that  our  readers  may  enjoy  as 
happy  hours  in  reading  these  memories  as  I  my- 
self have  enjoyed  in  hearing  them  related  to  me. 

RENE  LARA. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Queen  Amelie  of  Portugal Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

M.  Xavier  Paoli v 

The  Empress  of  Austria 15 

The  Emperor  and  Empress  of  Austria 30 

The  King  of  Spain,  Princess  Henry  of  Battenberg,  Prin- 
cess Victoria  Eugenia  and  M.  Paoli 47 

The  King  and  Queen  of  Spain  and  Baby      ....  62 

The  Shah  of  Persia 95 

The  Shah  leaving  the  Elysee  Palace 110 

The  Emperor   and    Empress    of    Russia    and   the   Grand 

Duke  Alexis 127 

The  Empress  of  Russia  and  the  Grand  Duchess  Marie  142 

The  King  and  Queen  of  Italy 175 

The  King  and  Queen  of   Italy  and   the   Crown   Prince  190 

King  George  of  Greece  in  the  Streets  of  Paris     .      .      .  206 

Queen  Wilhelmina 232 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE  FACING 

King  Leopold  II 371 

Princess   Clementine 286 

King  Edward  VII 303 

King  Edward  arriving  at  the  Elysee  Palace     .      .      .      -318 

King  Edward  on  the  way  to  Church gig 

The  King  of  Cambodia 328 

King    Sisowath's    Dancers   before   the    President   at   the 
E*lysee  Palace 344 


THE  EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF 
AUSTRIA 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I 
KNEW  THEM 


THE  EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF 
AUSTRIA 

1. 

THE  infinitely  fascinating  and  melancholy 
image  of  the  Empress  Elizabeth  of  Aus- 
tria represents  a  special  type  among  all 
the  royal  and  imperial  majesties  to  whose  persons 
I  have  been  attached  during  their  different  stays 
in  France;  and  this  both  on  account  of  her  life* 
which  was  one  long  romance,  and  of  her  death, 
which  was  a  tragedy. 

Hers  was  a  strong,  sad  soul ;  and  she  disappeared 
suddenly,  as  in  a  dream  of  terror.  She  hovers 
round  my  memory  crowned  with  the  halo  of  un- 
happiness. 

The  first  time  that  I  saw  her  was  at  Geneva; 
and  I  cannot  recall  this  detail  without  emotion, 
for  it  was  at  Geneva  that  she  was  to  'die  under 


4       THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

the  assassin's  dagger.  At  the  end  of  August, 
1895,  the  Government  received  notice  from  the 
French  Embassy  in  Vienna  that  the  Empress  was 
about  to  visit  Aix-les-Bains  in  Savoy.  She  was 
to  travel  from  her  palace  of  Miramar  through 
Italy  and  Switzerland;  and,  as  usual,  I  received 
my  formal  letter  of  appointment  from  the  Min- 
istry of  the  Interior,  instructing  me  to  go  and  meet 
the  Empress  at  the  International  railway-station 
at  Geneva. 

I  confess  that,  when  I  stepped  into  the  train, 
I  experienced  a  keen  sense  of  curiosity  at  the 
thought  that  I  was  soon  to  find  myself  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  lady  who  was  already  surrounded  by 
an  atmosphere  of  legend  and  who  was  known  as 
"the  wandering  empress." 

I  had  been  told  numerous  more  or  less  veracious 
stories  of  her  restless  and  romantic  life;  I  had 
heard  that  she  talked  little,  that  she  smiled  but 
rarely  and  that  she  always  seemed  to  be  pursuing 
a  distant  dream. 

My  first  impression,  however,  when  I  saw  her 
alighting  from  her  carriage  on  the  Geneva  plat- 
form, was  very  different  from  that  which  I  was 
prepared  to  receive.  The  Empress,  at  that  time, 
was  fifty-eight  years  of  age.  She  looked  like  a 
girl,  she  had  the  figure  of  a  girl,  with  a  girl's  light- 
ness and  grace  of  movement. 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA       5 

Tall  and  slender,  with  a  touch  of  stiffness  in  her 
bearing,  she  had  a  rather  fresh-coloured  face,  deep, 
dark  and  extraordinarily  bright  eyes  and  a  wealth 
of  chestnut  hair.  I  realised  later  that  she  owed 
her  vivacious  colouring  to  the  long  walks  which 
she  was  in  the  constant  habit  of  taking.  She  wore 
a  smartly-cut  black  tailor-made  dress,  which  ac- 
centuated her  slimness.  The  beauty  of  her  figure 
was  a  matter  of  which  she  was  frankly  vain;  she 
weighed  herself  every  day. 

I  was  also  struck  by  the  smallness  of  her  hands, 
the  musical  intonation  of  her  voice  and  the  purity 
with  which  she  expressed  herself  in  French,  al- 
though she  pronounced  it  with  a  slightly  guttural 
accent. 

One  disappointment,  however,  awaited  me;  my 
reception  was  icy  cold.  In  spite  of  the  experience 
which  I  had  acquired  during  the  exercise  of  my 
special  functions,  it  left  me  none  the  less  discon- 
certed. My  feeling  of  discomfort  was  still  further 
increased  when,  on  reaching  Aix-le-Bains,  General 
Berzeviczy,  whom  I  had  asked  for  an  interview  in 
order  to  arrange  for  the  organisation  of  my  de- 
partment, answered  drily: 

"We  sha'n't  want  anybody." 

These  four  words,  beyond  a  doubt,  constituted 
a  formal  dismissal,  an  invitation,  both  plain  and 
succinct,  to  take  the  first  train  back  to  Paris.  My 


6       THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

position  became  one  of  singular  embarrassment. 
Invested  with  a  confidential  mission,  I  was  begin- 
ning by  inspiring  distrust  precisely  in  those  to 
whom  this  mission  was  addressed ;  charged  to  watch 
and  remove  "suspects,"  I  myself  appeared  to  be 
the  most  suspected  of  all! 

Nevertheless,  I  resolved  that  I  would  not  be  de- 
nied. I  organised  my  service  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  our  guests.  Every  morning,  I  returned  to 
see  General  Berzeviczy.  Avoiding  any  allusion  to 
the  real  object  of  my  visit,  I  did  my  best  to  over- 
come his  coldness.  The  general  was  a  very  kind 
man  at  heart  and  a  charming  talker.  I  therefore 
told  him  the  gossip  of  the  day,  the  news  from  Paris, 
the  tittle-tattle  of  Aix.  I  advised  excursions, 
pointed  out  the  curiosities  worth  seeing,  consci- 
entiously fulfilled  my  part  as  a  Baedeker,  and, 
when  I  carelessly  questioned  the  general  concern- 
ing the  Empress's  intentions  as  to  the  employment 
of  her  day,  he  forgot  himself  to  the  extent  of  telling 
me.  This  was  all  that  I  wanted  to  know. 

In  a  week's  time  we  were  the  best  of  friends. 
The  Empress  had  condescended  to  appreciate  my 
frankness  in  daily  covering  the  table  with  news- 
papers and  reviews.  She  gradually  became  accus- 
tomed to  seeing  me  appear  just  in  time  to  forestall 
her  wishes.  The  game  was  won;  and,  when,  later, 
curious  to  know  the  cause  of  what  appeared  to  me 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA       7 

to  have  been  a  misunderstanding,  I  asked  General 
Berzeviczy  to  explain  the  reason  of  his  disconcert- 
ing reception,  he  replied : 

"It  was  simply  because,  when  we  go  abroad,  they 
generally  send  us  officials  who,  under  the  pretext 
of  protecting  us,  terrorise  us.  They  appear  to  us 
like  Banquo's  ghost,  with  doleful  faces  and  shifting 
eyes;  they  see  assassins  everywhere;  they  poison 
and  embitter  our  holidays.  That  is  why  you  ap- 
peared so  suspicious  to  us  at  first." 

"And  now?" 

"Now,"  he  answered  with  a  smile,  "the  experi- 
ment has  been  made.  You  have  fortunately  broken 
with  an  ugly  tradition.  In  your  case,  we  forget 
the  official,  and  remember  only  the  friend." 

2. 

In  the  course  of  the  three  visits  which  the  Em- 
press Elizabeth  paid  to  France  between  1895  and 
1898,  I  had  every  opportunity  of  studying,  in  the 
intimacy  of  its  daily  life,  that  little  wandering 
court  swayed  by  the  melancholy  and  fascinating 
figure  of  its  sovereign.  She  led  an  active  and  soli- 
tary existence.  Rising,  winter  and  summer,  at 
five  o'clock,  she  began  by  taking  a  warm  bath  in 
distilled  water,  followed  by  electric  massage,  after 
which,  even  though  it  were  still  dark,  she  would  go 
out  into  the  air. 


8        THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Clad  in  a  black  serge  gown,  ultra-simple  in  char- 
acter, she  walked  at  a  smart  pace  along  the  paths 
of  the  garden,  or,  if  it  were  raining,  perambulated 
the  long  passages  which  run  out  of  the  halls  or 
"lounges"  of  most  hotels.  Sometimes  she  would 
venture  on  the  roads  and  look  for  a  fine  point  of 
yiew — by  preference,  the  top  of  a  rock — from  which 
she  loved  to  watch  the  sunrise. 

She  returned  at  seven  o'clock  and  breakfasted 
lightly  on  a  cup  of  tea  with  a  single  biscuit.  She 
then  disappeared  into  her  apartments  and  devoted 
two  hours  to  her  toilet. 

Her  second  meal  was  taken  at  eleven  and  con- 
sisted of  a  cup  of  clear  soup,  an  egg  and  one  or 
two  glasses  of  meat- juice,  extracted  every  morning 
out  of  several  pounds  of  fillet  of  beef  by  means  of 
a  special  apparatus  which  accompanied  her  on  her 
travels.  She  also  tasted  a  light  dish  or  two,  with 
a  preference  for  sweets.  Immediately  after  lunch, 
she  went  out  again,  accompanied,  this  time,  by  her 
Greek  reader. 

This  Greek  reader  was  a  very  important  person. 
He  formed  one  of  the  suite  on  every  journey. 
Selected  from  among  the  young  scholars  of  the 
University  of  Athens,  and  often  appointed  by  the 
Greek  Government,  he  was  changed  year  by  year. 
I,  for  my  part,  have  known  three  different  readers. 
Their  duties  consisted  in  talking  with  the  Empress 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA        9 

in  the  Greek  language,  ancient  and  modern,  both 
of  which  she  spoke  with  equal  facility. 

This  might  have  appeared  to  be  a  quaint  fancy, 
but  it  was  explained  as  soon  as  the  Empress's 
mental  condition  was  better  understood.  Haunted 
by  a  melancholy  past,  romantic  by  temperament 
and  poetic  by  instinct,  she  had  sought  a  refuge  in 
literature  and  the  arts.  Greece  personified  in  her 
imagination  the  land  of  beauty  which  her  dreams 
incessantly  evoked;  she  had  a  passionate  love  for 
antiquity,  loved  its  artists  and  its  poets ;  she  wanted 
to  be  able,  everywhere  and  at  all  times,  when  the 
obsession  of  her  sorrowful  memories  became  too  in- 
tense, to  escape  from  the  pitiless  phantoms  that 
pursued  her  and  in  some  way  to  isolate  her  thoughts 
from  the  realities  of  life.  The  scholarly  conversa- 
tion of  the  young  Greek  savant  made  this  effort 
easier  for  her;  in  the  varied  and  picturesque  sur- 
roundings which  her  aesthetic  tastes  demanded,  she 
took  Homer  and  Plato  for  her  companions;  and 
thus  to  the  delight  of  the  eyes  was  added  the  most 
delicate  satisfaction  of  the  mind. 

The  Greek  reader,  therefore,  was  the  faithful 
participator  in  her  afternoon  walks,  which  lasted 
until  dusk,  and  the  Empress  often  covered  a  dis- 
tance of  fifteen  to  twenty  miles  on  end.  For 
twenty  years,  she  had  obstinately  refused  to  allow 
herself  to  be  photographed;  she  dreaded  the  pro- 


10      THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

fessional  indiscretion  of  amateur  photographers; 
and  no  sooner  did  she  perceive  a  camera  aimed  in 
her  direction  than  she  quickly  unfurled  a  black 
feather  fan  and  modestly  concealed  her  face,  leav- 
ing nothing  visible  above  the  feathers  but  her  great, 
wide,  never-to-be-forgotten  eyes,  which  had  retained 
all  the  splendour  and  fire  of  her  youth. 

The  young  Greek's  duties,  however,  were  not 
confined  to  talking  to  the  Empress  on  her  walks. 
Sometimes  the  reader  would  read.  Carrying  a  book 
which  she  had  selected  beforehand,  he  read  a  few 
chapters  to  her  during  the  rests  by  the  roadside, 
on  the  mountain-tops,  or  at  the  deserted  edge  of 
the  sea.  Later,  he  added  the  daily  budget  of  cut- 
tings from  the  newspapers  and  reviews  which  I 
prepared  for  Her  Majesty,  knowing  the  interest 
which  she  took  in  the  current  events  of  the  day. 

He  also  carried  on  his  arm  a  dark  garment — a 
skirt,  in  short.  The  Empress  had  the  habit,  in  the 
course  of  her  long  walks,  of  changing  the  skirt  in 
which  she  had  started  for  one  of  a  lighter  material. 
It  was  a  question  of  health  and  comfort.  This 
little  change  of  attire  was  effected  in  the  most 
primitive  fashion.  The  Empress  would  disappear 
behind  a  rock  or  a  tree,  while  the  reader,  accus- 
tomed to  this  rapid  and  discreet  proceeding,  waited 
in  the  road,  taking  care  to  look  the  other  way. 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA      11 

The  Empress  handed  him  the  skirt  which  she  had 
cast  off;  and  the  walk  was  resumed. 

On  returning  to  the  hotel,  she  made  a  frugal  din- 
ner, consisting  sometimes  merely  of  a  bowl  of  iced 
milk  and  some  raw  eggs  washed  down  with  a  glass 
of  Tokay,  an  almost  savage  dietary  to  which  she 
had  forced  herself  in  order  to  preserve  the  slimness 
of  figure  which  she  prized  so  highly.  She  took  all 
her  meals  alone,  in  a  private  room,  and  seldom 
passed  the  evening  with  her  suite.  Its  members 
hardly  ever  set  eyes  on  her;  sometimes  the  lady-in- 
waiting  spent  day  after  day  without  so  much  as 
seeing  her  imperial  mistress. 

Of  the  different  places  in  France  which  Her 
Majesty  visited,  the  one  which  she  loved  above  all 
others  was  Cap  Martin,  the  promontory  which  sep- 
arates the  Bay  of  Monaco  from  that  of  Mentone. 
She  came  here  for  three  years  in  succession  and 
returned  to  it  each  time  with  an  equal  pleasure. 
The  softness  of  the  climate,  the  wild  beauty  of  the 
views,  the  splendour  of  the  luxurious  vegetation 
and  the  poetic  solitude  of  the  pine-forests  and 
orange-groves,  reminded  her  of  her  property  of 
Achilleon  in  the  island  of  Corfu  and  of  her  palace 
of  Miramar  on  the  shores  of  the  Adriatic.  She 
selected  as  her  residence  the  enormous  hotel  that 
stands  at  the  end  of  the  point,  among  the  tall  pines, 


13      THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

the  fields  of  rosemary,  the  clusters  of  myrtle  and 
arbutus. 

The  furniture  of  the  imperial  apartments  was 
marked  by  extreme  simplicity,  combined  with  per- 
fect taste,  most  of  the  pieces  being  of  English 
workmanship.  Her  bedroom  was  just  the  ordi- 
nary hotel  bedroom,  with  a  brass  bedstead  sur- 
mounted by  a  mosquito  net,  a  mahogany  dressing- 
table  and  a  few  etchings  hanging  on  the  walls.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  management  had  placed  beside 
the  bed,  at  her  request,  a  system  of  electric  bells 
distinguished  by  their  colours — white,  yellow,  green 
and  blue,  which  enabled  her  to  summon  that  person 
of  her  suite  whose  presence  she  required,  without 
having  to  disturb  any  of  the  others. 

In  addition  to  the  ground  floor,  one  other  room 
was  reserved  for  her  on  every  Sunday  during  her 
visits.  This  was  the  billiard-room,  which  on  that 
day  was  transformed  into  a  chapel.  When  the 
Empress  came  to  the  Cap  Martin  Hotel  for  the 
first  time,  she  inquired  after  a  church,  for  she  was 
very  religious.  There  was  none  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood;  to  hear  mass  one  had  to  go  to  the 
village  of  Roquebrune,  the  parish  to  which  Cap 
Martin  belongs.  The  Empress  then  decided  to 
improvise  a  chapel  in  the  hotel  itself  and,  for  this 
purpose,  selected  the  billiard-room,  to  which  she 
could  repair  without  attracting  attention.  But  the 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA      13 

rites  of  the  Church  require  that  every  room  in  which 
mass  is  said  should  first  be  consecrated;  and  none 
save  the  bishop  of  the  diocese  is  qualified  to  per- 
form the  consecration.  A  ceremony  of  this  kind 
in  an  hotel  and  in  a  billiard-room  would  have  been 
rather  embarrassing.  The  difficulty  was  overcome 
in  a  curious  and  unexpected  manner.  There  is  an 
old  rule,  by  virtue  of  which  the  great  dignitaries  of, 
the  religious  Order  of  Malta  enjoy  the  privilege  of 
consecrating  any  room  in  which  they  drop  their 
cloak.  It  was  remembered  that  General  Berze- 
viczy,  the  Empress's  chamberlain,  occupied  one  of 
the  highest  ranks  in  the  knighthood  of  Malta.  He 
was  therefore  asked  to  drop  his  cloak  in  the  billiard- 
room.  Thenceforward,  every  Sunday  morning,  the 
Empress's  footman  put  up  a  portable  altar  in  front 
of  the  tall  oak  chimney-piece.  He  arranged  a 
number  of  gilt  chairs  before  it;  and  the  old  rector 
of  Roquebrune  came  and  said  mass,  served  by  a 
little  acolyte  to  whom  the  lady-in-waiting  handed  a 
gold  coin  when  he  went  away.  .  .  . 

The  Empress  was  extremely  generous;  and  her 
generosity  adopted  the  most  delicate  forms.  Her- 
self so  sad,  she  wished  to  see  none  but  happy  faces 
ever  about  her.  And  so  she  always  distributed 
lavish  gratuities  to  all  who  served  her;  and  she 
succoured  all  the  poor  of  the  country-side.  When- 
ever, in  the  course  of  her  walks,  she  saw  some  hum- 


14      THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

ble  cottage  hidden  in  the  mountain  among  the  olive- 
trees,  she  entered  it,  talked  to  the  peasants,  took 
the  little  children  on  her  knees  and,  as  she  feared 
lest  the  sudden  offer  of  a  sum  of  money  might  of- 
fend those  whom  she  was  anxious  to  assist,  she 
employed  the  most  charming  subterfuges.  She 
would  ask  leave  to  taste  their  fruit,  paying  for  it 
royally  ...  or  else  she  bought  several  quarts 
of  milk,  or  dozens  of  eggs,  which  she  told  them  to 
bring  to  the  hotel  next  day. 

She  ended,  of  course,  by  knowing  all  the  walks 
at  Cap  Martin  and  the  neighbourhood.  She  set 
out  each  morning  with  her  faithful  tramping  com- 
panion, the  Greek  reader.  Sometimes,  she  would 
go  along  the  rocks  on  the  shore,  sometimes  wend 
her  way  through  the  woods;  sometimes  she  would 
climb  the  steep  hills,  scrambling  "up  to  the  goats," 
as  the  herds  say.  .  .  .  She  never  mentioned 
the  destination  or  the  direction  of  her  excursions, 
a  thing  which  troubled  me  greatly,  notwithstanding 
that  I  had  had  the  whole  district  searched  and  ex- 
plored beforehand.  How  was  I  to  look  after  her? 

"Set  your  mind  at  ease,  my  dear  M.  Paoli,"  she 
used  to  say,  laughing.  "Nothing  will  happen  to 
me.  What  would  you  have  them  do  to  a  poor 
woman?  Besides,  we  are  no  more  than  the  petal 
of  a  poppy  or  a  ripple  on  the  water!" 

Nevertheless,  I  was  not  easy,  the  more  so  as  she 


THE   EMPRESS   OF   AUSTRIA 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA      15 

obstinately  refused  to  let  one  of  my  men  follow  her, 
even  at  a  distance.  One  evening,  however,  having 
heard  that  some  Italian  navvies,  who  were  at  work 
on  the  Mentone  road,  had  spoken  in  threatening 
terms  of  the  crowned  heads  who  are  in  the  habit 
of  visiting  that  part  of  the  country,  I  begged  the 
Empress  to  be  pleased  not  to  go  in  that  direction 
and  was  promptly  snubbed  for  my  pains. 

"More  of  your  fears,"  she  replied.  "I  repeat, 
I  am  not  afraid  of  them  .  .  .  and  I  make  no 
promise." 

I  was  determined.  I  redoubled  my  supervision 
and  resolved  to  send  one  of  my  Corsican  detectives, 
fully  armed,  disguised  and  got  up  like  a  navvy, 
with  instructions  to  mix  with  the  Italians  who  were 
breaking  stones  on  the  road.  He  rigged  himself 
out  in  a  canvas  jacket  and  a  pair  of  corduroy 
trousers  and  made  up  his  face  to  perfection. 
Speaking  Italian  fluently,  he  diverted  all  suspicion 
on  the  part  of  his  mates,  who  took  him  for  a  newly- 
arrived  fellow-countryman  of  their  own. 

He  was  there,  lynx-eyed,  with  ears  pricked  up, 
doing  his  best  to  break  a  few  stones,  when  suddenly 
a  figure  which  he  at  once  recognised  appeared  at  a 
turn  in  the  road.  The  night  was  beginning  to  fall ; 
the  Empress,  accompanied  by  her  reader,  was  on 
her  way  back  to  Cap  Martin.  Bending  over  his 
heap  of  stones,  the  sham  navvy  waited  rather  anx- 


16      THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

iously.  When  the  Empress  reached  the  group  of 
road-makers,  she  stopped,  hesitated  a  moment  and 
then,  noticing  my  man,  doubtless  because  he  looked 
the  oldest,  went  up  to  him  and  said,  in  her  kind 
way: 

"Is  that  hard  work  you're  doing,  my  good 
man?" 

Not  daring  to  raise  his  head,  he  stammered  a  few 
words  in  Italian. 

"Don't  you  speak  French?" 

"No,  signora" 

"Have  you  any  children?" 

"Si,  signora" 

"Then  take  this  for  them,"  slipping  a  louis  into 
his  hand.  "Tell  them  that  it  comes  from  a  lady 
who  is  very  fond  of  children."  And  the  Empress 
walked  away. 

That  same  evening,  seeing  me  at  the  hotel,  she 
came  up  to  me  with  laughing  eyes : 

"Well,  M.  Paoli,  you  may  scold  me,  if  you  like. 
I  have  been  disobedient.  I  went  along  the  Men- 
tone  road  to-day  and  I  talked  to  a  navvy." 

It  was  my  faithful  Corsican. 

Sometimes  she  ventured  beyond  the  radius  of  her 
usual  walks.  For  instance,  one  afternoon  she  sent 
for  me  on  returning  from  a  morning  excursion: 

"M.  Paoli,  you  must  be  my  escort  to-day.  You 
shall  take  me  to  the  Casino  at  Monte  Carlo ;  I  have 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA      17 

never  been  there.  I  must  really,  for  once  in  my 
life,  see  what  a  gambling-room  is  like." 

Off  we  went — the  Empress,  Countess  Sztaray, 
and  myself.  It  was  decided  that  we  should  go  by 
train.  We  climbed  into  a  first-class  carriage  in 
which  two  English  ladies  were  already  seated. 
The  Empress,  thoroughly  enjoying  her  incognito, 
sat  down  beside  them.  At  Monte  Carlo,  we  made 
straight  for  the  Casino  and  walked  into  the  roulette-1 
room.  The  august  visitor,  who  had  slipped 
through  the  crowd  of  punters  leaning  over  the  table, 
followed  each  roll  of  the  ball  with  her  eyes,  looking 
as  pleased  and  astonished  as  a  child  with  a  new  toy. 
Suddenly,  she  took  a  five-franc  piece  from  her 
handbag: 

"Let  me  see  if  I  have  any  luck,"  she  said  to  us. 
"I  believe  in  number  33." 

She  put  the  big  coin  on  number  33  en  plein.  At 
the  first  spin  of  the  wheel,  it  lost.  She  put  on  an- 
other and  lost  again.  The  third  time,  number  33 
turned  up.  The  croupier  pushed  175  francs  across 
to  her  with  his  rake.  She  gathered  it  up,  and  then, 
turning  gaily  to  us,  said : 

"Let  us  go  away  quickly.  I  have  never  won  so 
much  money  in  my  life." 

And  she  dragged  us  from  the  Casino. 

Whenever  she  went  to  Monte  Carlo,  she  never 
failed  to  go  and  have  tea  at  Rumpelmayer,  the 


18     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

famous  Viennese  confectioner's,  for,  as  I  have  al- 
ready said,  she  adored  pastry  and  sweets.  The 
Rumpelmayer  establishments  at  Mentone,  Nice  and 
Monte  Carlo  were  well  aware  of  the  identity  of 
their  regular  customer;  but  she  had  asked  them  not 
to  betray  her  incognito.  When  there  were  many 
people  in  the  shop,  she  would  sit  down  at  a  little 
table  near  the  counter ;  and  nobody  would  have  sus- 
pected that  the  simple,  comely  lady  in  black,  who 
talked  so  familiarly  with  the  girls  in  the  pay-box 
and  at  the  counter,  was  the  Empress  of  Austria  and 
Queen  of  Hungary. 


The  Emperor  joined  the  Empress  on  three  occa- 
sions during  her  visits  to  Cap  Martin.  The  event 
naturally  created  a  diversion  in  the  monotony  of 
our  sojourn.  Though  travelling  incognito  as 
Count  Hohenembs,  he  was  accompanied  by  a  fairly 
'numerous  suite,  whose  presence  brought  a  great 
animation  into  our  little  colony.  I  had,  of  course, 
to  redouble  my  measures  of  protection  and  to  send 
to  Paris  for  an  additional  force  of  detective-in- 
spectors. 

Francis  Joseph  generally  spent  a  fortnight  with 
his  consort.  I  thus  had  the  opportunity  of  observ- 
ing the  touching  affection  which  they  displayed  to 
each  other,  in  spite  of  the  gossip  of  which  certain 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA      19 

sections  of  the  press  have  made  themselves  the  com- 
placent echo.  Nothing  could  be  simpler  or  more 
charming  than  their  meetings.  As  soon  as  the 
train  stopped  at  Mentone  station,  where  the  Em- 
press went  to  wait  its  arrival,  accompanied  by  the 
members  of  her  suite,  the  Austrian  Consul,  the  Pre- 
fect of  the  Alpes-Maritimes,  the  Mayor  of  Men- 
tone  and  myself,  the  Emperor  sprang  lightly  to 
the  platform  and  hastened,  bareheaded,  to  the  Em- 
press, whom  he  kissed  on  both  cheeks.  His  ex- 
pressive face,  framed  in  white  whiskers,  lit  up  with 
a  kindly  smile.  He  tucked  the  Empress's  arm 
under  his  own,  and,  with  an  exquisite  courtesy,  ad- 
dressed a  few  gracious  words  to  each  of  us  indi- 
vidually. 

During  the  Emperor's  stay,  the  Empress 
emerged  for  a  little  while  from  her  state  of  timid 
isolation.  They  walked  or  drove  together  and  re- 
ceived visits  from  the  princes  staying  on  the  Cote 
d'Azur  or  passing  through,  notably  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  the  Archduke  Regnier,  the  Tsarevitch,  the 
Prince  of  Monaco,  the  King  and  Queen  of  Saxony 
and  the  Grand-duke  Michael.  Sometimes,  they 
would  call  on  the  late  Queen  of  England,  at  that 
time  installed  at  Cimiez,  or  on  the  Empress  Eu- 
genie, their  near  neighbour.  It  was  like  a  mini- 
ature copy  of  the  Court  of  Vienna,  transferred  to 
Cap  Martin. 


20     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Francis  Joseph,  faithful  to  his  habits,  rose  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning  and  worked  with  his  secre- 
taries. At  half -past  six,  he  stopped  to  take  a  cup 
of  coffee  and  then  closeted  himself  once  more  in 
his  study  until  ten.  The  wires  were  kept  working 
almost  incessantly  between  Cap  Martin  and  Vi- 
enna ;  as  many  as  eighty  telegrams  have  been  known 
to  be  dispatched  and  received  in  the  space  of  a 
single  morning.  From  ten  to  twelve,  the  Emperor 
strolled  in  the  gardens  with  the  Empress. 

Francis  Joseph  often  had  General  Gebhardt,  the 
Governor  of  Nice,  to  dinner  and  generally  took  a 
keen  interest  in  military  affairs.  When  he  went  to 
Mentone  to  return  the  visit  which  President  Faure 
had  paid  him  at  Cap  Martin,  the  French  Govern- 
ment sent  a  regiment  of  cuirassiers  from  Lyons  to 
salute  him.  The  Emperor,  struck  by  the  men's 
fine  bearing,  reviewed  them  and  watched  them 
march  past. 

It  also  occurred  to  me,  during  his  stay  in  the 
south  in  the  spring  of  1896,  to  obtain  an  oppor- 
tunity for  His  Imperial  Majesty  to  witness  a  sham 
fight  planned  by  the  87th  battalion  of  Alpine 
Chasseurs  on  the  height  of  Roquebrune.  The 
manoeuvres  opened  one  morning  at  dawn  in  the 
marvellous  circle  of  hills  covered  with  olive-trees 
and  topped  by  the  snowy  summits  of  the  Alps. 
For  two  hours,  the  Emperor  followed  the  incidents 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA      21 

of  the  fight  with  close  attention,  not  forgetting  to 
congratulate  the  officers  warmly  at  the  finish. 

On  the  next  day,  he  invited  the  officer  in  com- 
mand of  the  battalion,  now  General  Baugillot,  to 
luncheon.  The  major  was  a  gallant  soldier,  who 
was  more  accustomed  to  the  language  of  the  camp 
than  to  that  of  courts,  and  he  persisted  in  address- 
ing the  Emperor  as  "Sire"  and  "Monsieur"  by 
turns.  Francis  Joseph  smiled,  with  great  amuse- 
ment. At  last,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  the  major 
cried: 

"I  beg  everybody's  pardon!  I  am  more  used  to 
mess-rooms  than  drawing-rooms!" 

The  Emperor  at  once  replied : 

"Call  me  whatever  you  please.  I  much  prefer 
a  soldier  to  a  courtier." 

Cap  Martin  and  Aix  were  not  the  only  places 
visited  by  the  Empress  of  Austria.  In  the  autumn 
of  1896  she  was  anxious  to  see  Biarritz;  she  re- 
turned there  in  the  following  year  and  I  again  had 
the  honour  of  accompanying  her.  The  inclemency 
of  the  weather  shortened  the  stay  which  she  had 
at  first  intended  to  make;  and  yet  the  rough  and 
picturesque  poetry  of  the  Basque  coast  had  an  un- 
doubted attraction  for  her.  She  spent  her  days, 
sometimes,  on  the  steepest  points  of  the  rocks,  from 
which  she  would  watch  the  tide  for  hours,  often  re- 
turning soaked  through  with  spray;  at  other  times, 


22     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

she  would  roam  about  the  wild  country  that 
stretches  to  the  foot  of  the  Pyrenees,  talking  to 
the  Basque  peasants  and  interesting  herself  in  their 
work. 

She  had  a  mania  for  buying  a  cow  in  every  dis- 
trict which  she  visited  for  the  first  time.  She  chose 
it  herself  in  the  course  of  her  walks  and  had  it  sent 
to  one  of  her  farms  in  Hungary.  As  soon  as  she 
saw  a  cow  the  colour  of  whose  coat  pleased  her, 
she  would  accost  the  peasant,  ask  the  animal's  price 
and  tell  him  to  take  it  to  her  hotel. 

One  day,  near  Biarritz,  she  saw  a  magnificent 
black  cow,  bought  it  then  and  there,  gave  her  name 
of  Countess  Hohenembs  to  its  owner  and  sent  him 
to  the  hotel  with  her  purchase.  When  he  arrived, 
however,  and  asked  for  Countess  Hohenembs,  the 
porter,  who  had  not  been  prepared,  took  him  for  a 
madman  and  tried  to  send  him  away.  The  peasant 
insisted,  explained  what  had  happened  and  ended 
by  learning  that  Countess  Hohenembs  was  no  other 
than  the  Empress  of  Austria.  An  empress?  But 
then  he  had  been  cheated!  And  he  began  to 
lament  and  shout  and  protest  and  lose  his  temper: 

"If  I  had  known  it  was  a  queen,"  he  yelled,  "I'd 
have  asked  more  money!  I  must  have  a  bigger 
price !" 

The  discussion  lasted  for  two  hours  and  I  had 
to  be  called  to  put  a  stop  to  it. 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA     23 

This  was  not  the  only  amusing  adventure  that 
occurred  during  the  Empress's  stay  at  Biarritz. 
One  day,  returning  from  an  excursion  to  Fuent- 
arabia,  she  stood  waiting  for  a  train  on  the  plat- 
form of  the  little  frontier  station  at  Hendaye. 
The  reader,  who  was  with  her,  had  gone  to  ask  a 
question  of  the  station-master.  The  conversation 
seemed  never-ending  and  the  train  arrived.  The 
Empress,  losing  patience,  called  a  porter: 

"You  see  that  gentleman  in  black?"  she  said. 
"Go  and  tell  him  to  hurry,  or  the  train  will  leave 
without  us." 

The  porter  ran  up  to  the  reader  and  exclaimed: 

"Hurry  up,  or  your  wife  will  go  without  you!" 

The  Empress,  who  rarely  laughed,  was  greatly 
amused  at  this  incident. 

The  strange  form  of  neurasthenia  from  which 
she  suffered,  instead  of  decreasing  with  time, 
seemed  to  become  more  persistent  and  more  pain- 
ful as  the  years  went  on ;  and  it  ended  by  gradually 
impairing  her  health.  Not  that  the  Empress  had 
a  definite  illness — she  simply  felt  an  infinite  lassi- 
tude, a  perpetual  weariness,  against  which  she  tried 
to  struggle,  with  an  uncommon  display  of  energy, 
by  pursuing  her  active  life  in  spite  of  it,  her  wander- 
ing life  and  her  long  daily  walks. 

She  hated  medicine  and  believed  that  a  sound 
and  simple  plan  of  hygiene  was  far  preferable  to 


24     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

any  number  of  doctors*  prescriptions.  One  day, 
however,  seeing  her  more  tired  than  usual,  I  begged 
her  permission  to  present  her  with  a  few  bottles  of 
Vin  Mariani,  of  the  restorative  virtues  of  which  I 
had  had  personal  experience. 

"If  it  gives  you  any  satisfaction,"  she  replied, 
with  a  smile,  "I  accept.  But  you  must  let  me,  in 
return,  send  you  some  of  our  famous  Tokay,  which 
is  also  a  restorative  and,  moreover,  very  pleasant 
to  take." 

A  little  while  after,  Count  von  Wolkenstein- 
Trosburg  handed  me,  on  behalf  of  the  Empress,  a 
beautiful  liqueur-case  containing  six  little  bottles 
of  Tokay;  and  I  was  talking  of  drinking  it  after 
my  meals,  like  an  ordinary  dessert-wine,  when  the 
count  said: 

"Do  you  know  that  this  is  a  very  costly  gift? 
The  wine  comes  direct  from  the  Emperor's  estates. 
To  give  you  an  idea  of  what  it  is  worth,  I  may  tell 
you  that,  recently,  at  a  sale  in  Frankfort,  six  little 
bottles  fetched  eleven  thousand  francs.  ...  It 
stands  quite  alone." 

I  at  once  ceased  to  treat  it  as  a  common  Madeira. 
The  proprietor  of  the  hotel,  hearing  of  the  present 
which  I  had  received,  offered  me  five  thousand 
francs  for  the  six  bottles.  I  need  hardly  say  that 
I  refused.  ...  I  have  four  bottles  left  and  am 
keeping  them. 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA      25 

Towards  the  end  of  the  same  year,  1897,  when 
she  was  staying  for  the  second  time  at  Biarritz,  the 
Empress,  feeling  more  restless  and  melancholy 
than  ever,  resolved  to  make  a  cruise  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean on  board  her  yacht  Miramar.  But  she 
wished  first  to  spend  a  few  days  in  Paris. 

She  had  engaged  a  suite  of  rooms  at  an  hotel  in 
the  Rue  Castiglione  and  naturally  wanted  to  pre- 
serve the  strictest  incognito.  Still,  it  was  known 
that  she  was  in  Paris ;  and  the  protection  with  which 
I  surrounded  her  was  even  more  rigorous  than  be- 
fore. She  was  out  of  doors  from  morning  till  even- 
ing, went  through  the  streets  on  foot  to  visit  the 
churches,  monuments  and  museums  and  at  four 
o'clock  called  regularly  at  a  dairy  in  the  Rue  de 
Surene,  where  she  was  served  with  a  glass  of  ass's 
milk,  her  favourite  beverage,  after  which  she  re- 
turned to  the  hotel. 

One  day,  however,  we  had  a  great  alarm;  at  seven 
o'clock  she  was  not  yet  back.  I  anxiously  sent  to 
her  sisters,  the  Queen  of  Naples  and  the  Countess 
of  Trani,  to  whom  she  occasionally  paid  surprise 
visits.  She  was  not  there.  To  crown  all,  she  had 
succeeded  in  eluding  the  vigilance  of  the  inspector 
who  was  charged  to  follow  her  at  a  certain  distance. 
We  had  lost  the  Empress  in  the  midst  of  Paris  I 
Picture  our  mortal  anxiety ! 

I  was  about  to  set  out  myself  in  search  of  her, 


26     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

when  suddenly  we  saw  her  very  calmly  appear- 
ing. 

"I  have  been  gazing  at  Notre  Dame  by  moon- 
light," she  said.  "It  was  lovely.  And  I  came 
back  on  foot  along  the  quays.  I  went  among  the 
crowd  and  nobody  took  the  least  notice  of  me." 

I  remember  that  her  Greek  reader,  at  that  time 
Mr.  Barker,  and  her  secretary,  Dr.  Kromar,  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  see  something  of  the  picturesque 
and  characteristic  side  of  Paris;  and  I  took  them 
one  evening  to  the  central  markets.  When  we  had 
finished  our  visit,  I  invited  them,  in  accordance  with 
the  traditional  habit,  to  come  and  have  a  plate  of 
soupe  a  roignon  in  one  of  the  little  common  eating- 
houses  in  the  neighbourhood.  Delighted  with  this 
modest  banquet,  they  described  their  outing  to  the 
Empress  next  day  and  sang  the  praises  of  our 
famous  national  broth,  which  she  had  never  tasted. 

"M.  Paoli,"  she  said  enthusiastically,  "I  must 
know  what  soupe  a  roignon  is  like.  Mr.  Barker  has 
given  me  a  most  tantalising  description." 

"Nothing  is  easier.  I  will  tell  the  people  of  the 
hotel  to  make  you  some." 

"Never!  They  will  send  me  up  a  carefully-pre- 
pared soup  which  won't  taste  in  the  least  like  yours. 
And  I  must  have  it  served  in  the  identical  crockery. 
I  want  all  the  local  colour." 

Here  I  must  make  a  confession:  as  I  had  it  at 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA     27 

heart  (it  was  a  question  of  patriotism,  nothing  less) 
that  the  Empress  should  not  be  disappointed,  I 
thought  it  more  prudent  to  apply  to  the  manager 
of  the  hotel,  who,  kindly  lending  himself  to  my  in- 
nocent fraud,  prepared  the  onion  soup  and  sent  to 
the  nearest  bazaar  for  a  plate  and  soup-tureen  of 
the  "local  colour"  in  which  the  imperial  traveller 
took  so  great  an  interest.  The  illusion  was  perfect. 
The  Empress  thought  the  soup  excellent  and  the 
crockery  delightfully  picturesque;  true,  we  had 
chipped  it  about  a  little ! 

The  Empress's  only  visit  to  Paris  was  a  short 
one.  As  I  have  said,  she  had  decided  that  year  to 
air  her  melancholy  on  the  blue  waters  of  the  Medi- 
terranean. The  projected  cruise  embraced  a  num- 
ber of  calls  at  different  harbours  along  the  Cote 
d'Azur;  and  she  asked  me  to  accompany  her. 

We  left  Paris  on  the  30th  of  December  for 
Marseilles,  where  the  imperial  yacht  lay  waiting  for 
us,  commanded  by  a  very  distinguished  officer,  Cap- 
tain Moritz  Sacks  von  Bellenau;  and  we  were  at 
sea,  opposite  the  tragic  Chateau  d'lf,  on  the  1st  of 
January  of  the  year  1898,  which  was  to  prove  so 
tragic  to  Elizabeth  of  Austria.  I  offered  her  my 
wishes  for  happiness  and  a  long  life.  The  Empress 
seemed  to  me  sadder  and  more  thoughtful  that 
morning  than  usual : 

"I  wish  you  also,"  she  said,  "health  and  happi- 


28     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

ness  for  you  and  yours."  And  she  added,  with  an 
expression  of  infinite  bitterness,  "As  for  myself,  I 
have  no  confidence  left  in  the  future." 

Had  she  already  received  a  presentiment  of  what 
the  year  held  in  store  for  her?  Who  can  tell? 

She  gave  us  but  little  of  her  society  during  this 
voyage.  She  spent  her  days  on  deck,  and  inter- 
ested herself  in  the  silent  activity,  in  the  humble, 
poetic  life  of  the  crew.  The  sailors  entertained  a 
sort  of  veneration  for  her.  They  were  constantly 
feeling  the  effects  of  her  discreet  and  delicate  kind- 
ness. Like  ourselves,  they  respected  her  melan- 
choly and  her  love  of  solitude.  And,  in  the  even- 
ings, while  the  little  court  collected  in  the  saloon 
and  amused  themselves  with  different  games,  or 
else  improvised  a  charming  concert;  while,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  ship,  the  sailors,  seated  under  the 
poop,  sang  their  Tyrolean  or  Hungarian  songs  to 
an  accordion  accompaniment,  the  Empress,  all 
alone  on  deck,  with  her  eyes  staring  into  the  dis- 
tance, would  dream  of  the  stars. 

After  leaving  Marseilles,  we  went  to  Villa- 
franca,  near  Nice,  skirting  the  coast.  The  Em- 
press also  wished  to  stop  at  Cannes  and  to  see 
once  more,  from  the  sea,  Monaco,  Cap  Martin  and 
Mentone.  She  next  proposed  to  revisit  Sicily, 
Greece,  and  Corfu:  it  was  as  though  she  felt  a 
secret  desire  to  make  a  sort  of  pilgrimage  to  all  the 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA      29 

ephemeral  landmarks  which  her  sad  soul  had  visited 
in  the  course  of  her  wandering  life. 

However  enjoyable  this  cruise  might  be  to  me, 
I  had  to  think  of  abandoning  it.  My  service  with 
the  Empress  ended  automatically  as  soon  as  she 
had  left  French  waters. 

"Stay  on,  nevertheless,"  she  said  kindly.  "You 
shall  be  my  guest ;  and  I  will  show  you  my  beauti- 
ful palace  in  Corfu." 

But  my  duties,  unfortunately,  summoned  me 
elsewhere.  I  had  to  return  to  Nice,  to  receive  the 
King  and  Queen  of  Saxony,  who  were  expected 
there.  It  was  decided,  therefore,  that  I  should 
leave  the  Miramar  at  San  Remo.  When  the  yacht 
dropped  her  anchor  outside  the  little  Italian  town, 
I  said  good-bye  to  the  Empress  and  my  charming 
travelling-companions. 

"It  will  not  be  for  long,  for  I  shall  come  back  to 
France,"  said  Elizabeth. 

She  leant  over  the  bulwarks,  as  the  yacht's 
launch  took  me  on  shore,  and  I  watched  her  delicate 
and  careworn  features,  first  outlined  against  the 
disc  of  the  setting  sun  and  then  merging,  little  by 
little,  in  the  distance  and  the  darkness. 

4. 

Seven  months  had  elapsed  since  the  day  when  I 
left  the  Empress  at  San  Remo.  I  was  in  Paris 


SO     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

and  read  in  the  papers  that  she  had  just  arrived  at 
Caux,  a  picturesque  little  place  situated  above 
Montreux,  overlooking  the  Lake  of  Geneva.  I 
hastened  to  write,  on  chance,  to  Mr.  Barker,  her 
Greek  reader,  in  order  to  receive  news  of  her. 
When  I  came  home,  on  the  evening  of  the  9th  of 
September,  I  was  handed  Mr.  Barker's  reply,  in 
which  was  conveyed  news  of  the  Empress's  plans, 
and  a  gracious  invitation  from  her  to  visit  her, 
should  I  happen  to  be  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Geneva. 

As  I  was  on  leave  and  had  nothing  to  keep  me 
in  Paris,  I  at  once  made  up  my  mind  and,  the  next 
morning,  took  the  train  for  Geneva.  I  calculated 
that,  arriving  in  the  evening,  I  had  a  chance  of  still 
finding  the  Empress  at  the  Hotel  Beau  Rivage; 
besides,  nothing  need  prevent  me  from  going  the 
next  morning  to  Caux,  where  I  was  sure  to  see  her, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  to  be  able  to  shake  hands 
with  General  Berzeviczy  and  Mr.  Barker.  Who 
would  have  thought  that  the  train  which  carried  me 
through  the  green  fields  of  Burgundy  and  Franche- 
Comte  was  taking  me  straight  to  the  scene  of  a  sad 
and  blood-stained  tragedy? 

When  we  drew  into  the  station  at  Geneva,  I 
noticed  an  unwonted  animation  on  the  platforms; 
groups  of  people  stood  about  in  excited  discussion, 
with  a  look  of  consternation  on  their  faces.  I  paid 


Qu 
UJ 

Q 
Z 


§ 

UJ 
CL 
2 
UJ 

UJ 

X 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA     31 

no  particular  attention,  however,  for  I  was  in  a 
hurry.  I  hailed  a  fly  and  told  the  man  to  drive  to 
the  Hotel  Beau  Rivage.  We  had  not  gone  twenty 
yards  when  he  turned  round  on  his  box : 

"What  an  awful  crime!"  he  said. 

"What  crime?" 

"Haven't  you  heard?  The  Empress  was  mur- 
dered this  afternoon." 

"Murdered!" 

Livid  and  scared,  I  could  hardly  listen  to  the 
pitiful  story  of  the  tragedy.  The  Empress,  it 
seemed,  had  been  stabbed  to  the  heart  by  an  Italian 
anarchist  when  about  to  embark  on  the  1:40 
steamer  for  Territet;  she  sank  down  on  the  Quai 
du  Mont  Blanc.  The  people  around  her  thought 
that  she  had  fainted,  and  carried  her  on  board  the 
boat;  when  they  bent  over  her,  she  was  dead. 

I  sprang  quickly  from  the  carriage,  when  it 
pulled  up  at  the  hotel,  rushed  into  the  hall,  which 
was  full  of  people,  flew  up  the  crowded  staircase 
and  along  a  corridor  in  which  English,  German 
and  Russian  travellers  were  hustling  one  another, 
with  scared  faces,  all  anxious  to  see.  At  last, 
catching  sight  of  a  servant : 

"Countess  Sztaray?"  I  asked. 

"In  there,"  he  replied,  pointing  to  a  door  stand- 
ing ajar. 

I  knocked,  the  door  was  opened  and  Countess 


32     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Sztaray,  red-eyed,  her  features  distorted  with  grief, 
gave  me  a  heart-broken  look  and,  with  a  sob,  said: 

"Our  poor  Empress!" 

"Where  is  she?" 

"Come  with  me." 

Taking  me  by  the  hand,  she  led  me  and  General 
Berzeviczy,  who  had  also  just  arrived,  to  the  next 
room.  There  lay  the  Empress,  stiff  and  already 
cold,  stretched  on  a  little  brass  bed  under  a  thin, 
white  gauze  veil.  Her  face,  lit  up  by  the  flickering 
flame  of  two  tall  candles,  showed  no  trace  of  suf- 
fering. A  sad  smile  still  seemed  to  hover  over  her 
pale  and  lightly-parted  lips;  two  long  tresses  fell 
upon  her  slim  shoulders;  the  delicate  features  of 
her  face  had  shrunk ;  two  purple  shadows  under  her 
eyelids  threw  into  relief  the  sharp  outline  of  her 
nose  and  the  pallor  of  her  cheeks. 

She  appeared  as  though  sleeping  peacefully  and 
happily.  Her  tiny  hands  were  crossed  over  an 
ivory  crucifix;  some  roses,  already  almost  withered 
— roses  which  she  had  gathered  that  morning  and 
which  she  was  carrying  in  her  arms  when  she  re- 
ceived her  death-blow — lay  scattered  at  her  feet. 

I  stood  long  contemplating  the  corpse.  My  self- 
possession  deserted  me.  In  spite  of  myself,  the 
tears  came  to  my  eyes,  and  I  cried  like  a  child. 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA      33 

Why  had  fate  decreed  that  the  Empress  should 
go  to  Geneva  ?  Curiously  enough,  the  idea  came  to 
her  suddenly,  it  appeared,  on  Thursday,  the  8th  of 
September.  She  had  arranged  to  pay  a  visit  to 
her  friend,  Baronne  Adolphe  de  Rothschild,  who 
was  staying  at  her  country  house,  the  Chateau  de 
Pregny,  at  the  western  end  of  the  lake.  But  it  was 
a  long  excursion  to  make  in  a  single  day;  and  the 
Empress,  contrary  to  the  advice  of  Countess 
Sztaray,  decided  to  sleep  at  Geneva,  after  leaving 
Pregny,  and  not  to  return  to  Caux  until  the  follow- 
ing afternoon.  She  arrived  at  the  Hotel  Beau 
Rivage  in  the  evening  and  went  out  after  dinner. 
She  was  up  the  next  day  at  five  o'clock.  After 
filling  a  portion  of  her  morning  with  the  compli- 
cated cares  of  her  toilet  and  her  correspondence, 
she  went  for  a  walk  along  the  shady  quays  of  the 
Rhone.  Returning  to  the  hotel  at  one  o'clock,  she 
hurriedly  drank  a  glass  of  milk.  Then,  accom- 
panied by  her  lady-in-waiting,  Countess  Sztaray, 
she  hastened  down  to  the  steamboat  pier,  intending 
to  take  the  Territet  boat  that  started  at  1 :40.  She 
had  come  to  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  foot- 
plank  connecting  the  steamer  with  the  Quai  du 
Mont  Blanc,  when  Lucchini  flung  himself  upon 
her  and  struck  her  a  blow  under  the  left  breast  with 
a  three-cornered  file  clumsily  fitted  to  a  wooden 


34     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

handle.  The  violence  of  the  blow  broke  her  fourth 
rib. 

Death  was  not  instantaneous.  She  had  the 
strength  to  walk  as  far  as  the  boat  and  for  this 
reason:  the  instrument,  in  its  course,  had  pierced 
the  left  ventricle  of  the  heart  from  top  to  bottom. 
But,  the  blade  being  very  sharp  and  very  thin,  the 
hemorrhage  at  first  was  almost  insignificant. 
The  drops  of  blood  escaped  very  slowly  from  the 
heart;  and  its  action  was  not  impaired  so  long  as 
the  pericardium,  in  which  the  drops  were  collecting, 
was  not  full.  This  was  how  she  was  able  to  go  a 
fairly  long  distance  on  foot  with  a  stab  in  her  heart. 
When  the  bleeding  increased,  the  Empress  sank  to 
the  deck. 

The  poor  Empress,  therefore,  had  the  energy  to 
drag  herself  to  the  boat,  where  a  band  of  gipsies 
was  playing  Hungarian  dances  (a  cruel  irony  of 
chance),  while  the  steamer  began  to  move  away 
from  the  landing-stage.  At  that  moment,  she 
fainted.  Countess  Sztaray,  who  believed  her  to  be 
stunned  by  a  blow  of  the  fist — for  no  one  had  seen 
the  weapon  in  the  assassin's  hand — tried  to  bring 
her  to  with  smelling-salts.  The  Empress,  in  fact, 
recovered  consciousness,  spoke  a  few  words,  cast  a 
long  look  of  bewildered  astonishment  around  her 
and  then,  suddenly,  fell  back  dead.  The  dismay 
and  excitement  were  intense.  The  boat  at  once 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA     35 

put  back  to  the  pier;  and,  as  there  was  no  litter  at 
hand,  the  body  was  carried  to  the  hotel,  shrouded 
in  sails,  on  an  improvised  bier  of  crossed  oars. 

Had  the  Empress  received  a  presentiment  of 
her  tragic  end,  which  a  gipsy  at  Wiesbaden,  and  a 
fortune-teller  at  Corfu  had  foretold  her  in  the  past  ? 
Two  strange  incidents  incline  one  to  think  so.  On 
the  eve  of  her  departure  for  Geneva,  she  asked  Mr. 
Barker  to  read  her  a  few  chapters  of  a  book  by 
Marion  Crawford,  entitled  "Corleone,"  in  which 
the  author  describes  the  abominable  customs  of  the 
Sicilian  Mafia.  While  the  Empress  was  listening 
to  this  harrowing  story,  a  raven,  attracted  by  the 
scent  of  some  fruit  which  she  was  eating,  came  and 
circled  round  her.  Greatly  impressed,  she  tried  to 
drive  it  off,  but  in  vain,  for  it  constantly  returned, 
filling  the  echoes  with  its  mournful  croaking. 
Then  she  swiftly  walked  away,  for  she  knew  that 
ravens  are  harbingers  of  death  when  their  ill- 
omened  wings  persist  in  flapping  around  a  living 
person. 

Again,  Countess  Sztaray  told  me  that,  on  the 
morning  of  that  day,  she  went  into  the  Empress's 
room,  as  usual,  to  ask  how  she  had  slept,  and  found 
her  imperial  mistress  looking  pale  and  sad. 

"I  have  had  a  strange  experience,"  said  Eliza- 
beth. "I  was  awakened  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
by  the  bright  moonbeams  which  filled  my  room, 


36     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

for  the  servants  had  forgotten  to  draw  the  blinds. 
I  could  see  the  moon  from  my  bed;  and  it  seemed 
to  have  the  face  of  a  woman  weeping.  I  don't 
know  if  it  is  a  presentiment,  but  I  have  an  idea  that 
I  shall  meet  with  misfortune." 

During  the  three  days  that  preceded  the  depar- 
ture of  the  remains  for  Vienna,  I  stayed  at  Geneva 
and  shared  the  funeral  watches  with  the  little  court, 
once  so  happy  and  now  so  pitifully  robbed  of  its 
mistress.  General  Berzeviczy,  Countess  Sztaray 
and  I  sat  for  long  hours  conjuring  up  the  memory 
of  her  who  was  now  sleeping  her  last  sleep  beside 
us.  Countless  anecdotes  were  told,  countless  tiny 
and  charming  details.  It  already  seemed  almost 
a  distant  past  which  we  were  recalling  for  the 
last  time,  a  bright  and  exquisite  past  which  the 
gracious  Empress  was  taking  away  with  her. 

I  went  to  see  the  murderer  in  his  cell.  I  found 
a  perfectly  lucid  being,  boasting  of  his  crime  as  of 
an  act  of  heroism.  When  I  asked  him  what 
motive  had  driven  him  to  choose  for  his  victim  a 
woman,  a  sovereign  living  as  far  removed  as  possi- 
ble from  politics  and  the  throne,  one  who  had  al- 
ways shown  so  much  compassion  for  the  humble 
and  the  destitute: 

"I  struck  at  the  first  crowned  head,"  he  said, 
"that  came  along.  I  don't  care.  I  wanted  to 
make  a  manifestation  and  I  have  succeeded." 


EMPEROR  AND  EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA     37 

The  unhappy  Empress's  destiny  was  to  be 
strange  and  romantic  until  the  end,  until  after  her 
death.  Her  body,  carried  to  an  hotel  bedroom,  de- 
parted for  Austria  without  pomp  or  display,  amid 
an  immense  and  silent  crowd.  The  Swiss  Govern- 
ment had  not  the  necessary  time  to  levy  a  regiment 
to  show  her  the  last  honours. 

But  it  was  better  so,  for  she  had,  as  her  escort, 
a  respectfully  contemplative  nation  and,  as  her  sa- 
lute, the  bells  of  all  the  towns  and  all  the  villages 
through  which  the  funeral  train  passed.  And  this, 
I  am  certain,  was  just  the  simple  and  poetic  hom- 
age which  her  heart  would  have  desired. 

A  few  days  after  the  tragedy,  the  Emperor 
Francis  Joseph  deigned  to  remember  my  respectful 
attachment  to  the  consort  whom  he  had  loved  so 
well ;  and  I  received  the  following  telegram : 

WIENBURG,  September  15th,  1898. 
To  Monsieur  Paoli,  Ministry  of  the  Interior,  Paris, — 

His  Majesty  the  Emperor,  greatly  touched  by  your  sin- 
cere sympathy,  remembers  gratefully  the  devoted  care 
which  you  showed  the  late  Empress  and  thanks  you  again 
with  all  his  heart.  PAAE. 

Principal  Aide-de-camp  to  H.  M.  the  Emperor  of  Austria. 

I  also  received  from  the  archduchesses,  the 
daughters,  a  hunting-knife  which  their  mother,  the 


38     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

poor  Empress,  valued  most  particularly.  I  keep 
it  religiously  in  my  little  museum.  Sometimes  I 
take  it  out  and  look  at  it;  and  it  invariably  sum- 
mons up  one  of  the  most  touching  memories  of  my 
life. 


II 

KING  ALFONSO  XIII 

1. 

4  4"W    ^  OU  wanted  me  to  complete  your  collec- 
V^       tion,  didn't  you,  M.  Paoli  ?  " 
•^  The  presidential  train  had  left  Hen- 

day  e;  the  distant  echoes  of  the  Spanish  national 
anthem  still  reached  our  ears  through  the  silence 
and  the  darkness.  Leaning  from  the  window  of 
the  sleeping-car,  I  was  watching  the  last  lights  of 
the  little  frontier-town  disappear  one  by  one. 

I  turned  round  briskly  at  the  sound  of  that  gay 
and  bright  voice.  A  tall,  slim  young  man  stood  at 
the  door  of  the  compartment,  with  a  cigarette  be- 
tween his  lips  and  a  soft  felt  hat  on  his  head,  and 
gave  me  a  friendly  little  wave  of  the  hand.  His 
long,  slender  figure  looked  very  smart  and  supple 
in  a  pale-grey  travelling-suit;  and  a  broad  smile 
lit  up  his  bronzed  face,  his  smooth,  boyish  face, 
adorned  with  a  large  Bourbon  hooked  nose,  planted 
like  an  eagle's  beak  between  two  very  black  eyes, 
full  of  fire  and  humour. 

"  Yes,  yes,  M.  Paoli,  I  know  you,  though  per- 

41 


42     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

haps  you  don't  yet  know  me.  My  mother  has 
often  spoken  to  me  of  you  and,  when  she  heard 
that  you  had  been  appointed  to  watch  over  my 
safety,  she  said,  'With  Paoli,  I  feel  quite  at  ease.' ' 

"I  am  infinitely  touched  and  flattered,  Sir,"  I 
replied,  "by  that  gracious  mark  of  confidence. 
It  is  true  that  my  collection  was  incomplete  without 
your  Majesty." 

That  is  how  I  became  acquainted  with  H.  M. 
Alfonso  XIII,  in  the  spring  of  1905,  at  the  time 
of  his  first  official  visit  to  France.  "The  little 
king,  as  he  was  still  called,  had  lately  completed 
his  nineteenth  year.  He  had  attained  his  majority 
a  bare  twelvemonth  before  and  was  just  entering 
upon  his  career  as  a  monarch,  if  I  may  so  express 
myself.  The  watchful  eyes  of  Europe  were  begin- 
ning to  observe  with  sympathetic  interest  the  first 
actions  of  this  young  ruler  who,  with  the  exuberant 
grace  of  his  fine  and  trusting  youth,  brought  an 
unexpected  and  amusing  contrast  into  the  some- 
what constrained  formality  of  the  gallery  of 
sovereigns.  Though  he  had  no  history  as  yet, 
plenty  of  anecdotes  were  already  current  about  him 
and  a  plenty  of  morals  were  drawn  in  consequence : 

"He  has  a  nature  all  impulse,"  said  one. 

"He  is  full  of  character,"  said  people  who  had 
met  him. 

"He  is  like  his  father:  he  would  charm  the  bird 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  43 

from  the  tree,"  an  old  Spanish  diplomatist  re- 
marked to  me. 

"At  any  rate,  there  is  nothing  commonplace 
about  him,"  thought  I,  still  perplexed  by  the  un- 
conventional, amusing,  jocular  way  in  which  he  had 
interrupted  my  nocturnal  contemplations. 

No,  he  was  certainly  not  commonplace!  The 
next  morning,  I  saw  him  at  early  dawn  at  the  win- 
dows of  the  saloon-carriage,  devouring  with  a  de- 
lighted curiosity  the  sights  that  met  his  eyes  as 
the  train  rushed  at  full  speed  through  the  verdant 
plains  of  the  Charente.  Nothing  escaped  his  youth- 
ful enthusiasm :  fields,  forests,  rivers,  things,  people. 
Everything  gave  rise  to  sparkling  exclamations : 

"What  a  lovely  country  yours  is,  M.  Paoli!"  he 
cried,  when  he  saw  me  standing  near  him.  "I  feel 
as  if  I  were  still  at  home,  as  if  I  knew  everybody: 
the  faces  all  seem  familiar.  It's  'stunning' !" 

At  the  sound  of  this  typically  Parisian  expres- 
sion (the  French  word  which  he  employed  was 
epatant)  proceeding  from  the  royal  lips,  it  was  my 
turn  to  be  "stunned."  In  my  innocence,  I  was  not 
yet  aware  that  he  knew  all  our  smart  slang  phrases 
and  used  them  freely. 

His  spirits  were  as  inexhaustible  as  his  bodily  ac- 
tivity; and,  upon  my  word,  we  were  hard  put  to  it 
to  keep  up  with  him.  Now  running  from  one  win- 
dow to  another,  so  as  to  "miss  nothing,"  as  he  said, 


44     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

with  a  laugh;  now  leaning  over  the  back  of  a  chair 
or  swinging  his  legs  from  a  table;  now  striding  up 
and  down  the  carriage,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
and  the  everlasting  cigarette  between  his  lips,  he 
questioned  us  without  ceasing.  He  wanted  to 
know  everything,  though  he  knew  a  great  deal  as  it 
was.  The  army  and  navy  excited  his  interest  in 
the  highest  degree;  the  provinces  through  which  we 
were  passing,  their  customs,  their  past,  their  ad- 
ministrative organisation,  their  industries  supplied 
him  with  the  subjects  of  an  exhaustive  interroga- 
tory, to  which  we  did  our  best  to  reply.  Our  social 
laws,  our  parliament,  our  politicians  as  eagerly 
aroused  his  lively  curiosity,  and  then  came  the 
turn  of  Paris  which  he  was  at  last  about  to  see, 
whose  splendours  and  peculiarities  he  already  knew 
from  reading  and  hearsay,  that  Paris  which  he 
looked  upon  as  a  fairyland,  a  promised  land;  and 
the  thought  that  he  was  to  be  solemnly  welcomed 
there  sent  a  slight  flush  of  excitement  to  his  cheeks. 

"It  must  be  wonderful!"  he  said,  his  eyes  ablaze 
with  pleasurable  impatience. 

He  also  insisted  upon  our  giving  him  full  details 
about  the  persons  who  were  to  receive  him : 

"What  is  M.  Loubet  like?  And  the  prime 
minister?  And  the  governor  of  Paris  ?" 

When  he  was  not  putting  questions,  he  was  tell- 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  45 

ing  stories,  recalling  his  impressions  of  his  recent 
journeys  in  Spain. 

"Confess,  M.  Paoli,"  he  said,  "that  you  have  never 
had  to  look  after  a  king  as  young  as  I." 

His  conversation,  jesting  and  serious  by  turns, 
studded  with  judicious  reflexions,  with  smart  sal- 
lies, with  freakish  outbursts  and  unexpected  digres- 
sions, revealed  a  young  and  keen  intelligence,  eager 
after  knowledge,  a  fresh  mind  open  to  effusive  ideas, 
a  quivering  imagination,  counterbalanced,  however, 
by  a  reflective  brain.  I  remember  the  astonishment 
of  the  French  officers  who  had  come  to  meet  him 
at  the  frontier,  on  hearing  him  discuss  matters  of 
military  strategy  with  the  authority  and  the  expert 
wisdom  of  an  old  tactician;  I  remember  also  the 
surprise  of  a  high  official  who  had  joined  the  train 
mid-way  and  to  whose  explanations  the  King  was 
lending  an  attentive  ear  when  we  crossed  a  bridge 
over  the  Loire,  in  which  some  water-fowl  happened 
to  be  disporting  themselves. 

"Oh,  what  a  pity!"  the  King  broke  in.  "Why 
haven't  I  a  gun?"  And,  taking  aim  with  an  imagi- 
nary fowling-piece,  "What  a  fine  shot!" 

Again,  I  remember  the  spontaneous  and  charm- 
ing way  in  which,  full  of  admiration  for  the  beauties 
of  our  Touraine,  he  tapped  me  on  the  shoulder  and 
cried : 


46     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"There's  no  doubt  about  it,  I  love  France  I 
France  forever  1" 

What  was  not  my  surprise,  afterwards,  at 
Orleans,  where  the  first  official  stop  was  made,  to  see 
him  appear  in  his  full  uniform  as  captain-general, 
his  features  wearing  an  air  of  singular  dignity,  his 
gait  proud  and  lofty,  compelling  in  all  of  us  a  re- 
spect for  the  impressive  authority  that  emanated 
from  his  whole  person!  He  found  the  right  word 
for  everybody,  was  careful  of  the  least  shades  of 
etiquette,  moved,  talked  and  smiled  amid  the  gold- 
laced  uniforms  with  a  sovereign  ease,  showing  from 
the  first  that  he  knew  better  than  anybody  how  to 
play  his  part  as  a  king. 

There  is  one  action,  very  simple  in  appearance, 
but  in  reality  more  difficult  than  one  would  think, 
by  which  we  can  judge  a  sovereign's  bearing  in  a 
foreign  country.  This  is  his  manner  of  saluting  the 
colours.  Some,  as  they  pass  before  the  standard 
surrounded  by  its  guard  of  honour,  content  them- 
selves with  raising  their  hand  to  their  cap  or  helmet ; 
others  stop  and  bow ;  others,  lastly,  make  a  wide  and 
studied  gesture  which  betrays  a  certain,  almost  the- 
atrical affectation.  Alfonso  XIII's  salute  is  like 
none  of  these:  in  its  military  stiffness,  it  is  at  once 
simple  and  grave,  marked  by  supreme  elegance  and 
profound  deference.  On  the  platform  of  the  Or- 
leans railway-station,  opposite  the  motionless  bat- 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  47 

talion,  in  the  presence  of  a  number  of  officers  and 
civil  functionaries,  this  salute  which  so  visibly  paid 
a  delicate  homage  to  the  army  and  the  country,  the 
graceful  and  respectful  salute  moved  and  flattered 
us  more  than  any  number  of  boasts  and  speeches. 
And,  when,  at  last,  I  went  home,  after  witnessing 
the  young  King's  arrival  in  the  capital  and  noticing 
the  impression  which  he  had  made  on  the  govern- 
ment and  the  people,  I  recalled  the  old  Spanish 
diplomatist's  remark: 

"The  King  would  charm  the  bird  from  the  tree!" 

2. 

I  saw  little  of  King  Alfonso  during  his  first  stay 
in  Paris.  The  protection  of  sovereigns  who  are  the 
official  guests  of  the  government  did  not  come  within 
the  scope  of  my  duties.  I  therefore  left  him  at  the 
station  and  was  not  to  resume  my  place  in  his  suite 
until  the  moment  of  his  departure.  The  anarchist 
revolutionary  gentry  appeared  to  be  unaware  of  this 
detail,  for  I  daily  received  a  fair  number  of  anony- 
mous letters,  most  of  which  contained  more  or  less 
vague  threats  against  the  person  of  our  royal  visitor. 
One  of  them,  which  the  post  brought  me  as  I  was 
on  the  point  of  proceeding  to  the  gala  performance 
given  at  the  Opera  in  his  honour,  struck  me  more 
particularly  because  of  the  plainness  of  the  warn- 
ing which  it  conveyed,  a  warning  devoid  of  any  of 


48     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

the  insults  that  usually  accompany  this  sort  of  com- 
munication : 

"In  spite  of  all  the  precautions  that  have  been 
taken,"  it  read,  "the  King  had  better  be  careful 
when  he  leaves  the  Opera  to-night." 

This  note,  written  in  a  rough,  disguised  hand, 
was,  of  course,  unsigned.  I  at  once  passed  it  on  to 
the  right  quarter.  The  very  strict  supervision  that 
was  being  exercised  no  doubt  excluded  the  possi- 
bility of  a  successful  plot.  But  there  remained  the 
danger  of  an  individual  attempt,  the  murderous  act 
of  a  single  person;  and  I  knew  by  experience  that, 
to  protect  one's  self  against  that,  one  must  rely 
exclusively  upon  "the  police  of  Heaven,"  to  use  the 
picturesque  expression  of  Senor  Maura,  the 
Spanish  premier. 

Haunted  by  a  baneful  presentiment,  I  neverthe- 
less decided  on  leaving  the  Opera,  to  remain  near 
the  King's  carriage  (as  a  mere  passer-by,  of  course) 
until  he  had  stepped  into  it  with  M.  Loubet  and 
driven  off,  surrounded  by  his  squadron  of  cavalry. 
The  attempt  on  his  life  took  place  at  the  corner  of 
the  Rue  de  Rohan  and  the  Rue  de  Rivoli ;  and  both 
the  King  and  M.  Loubet  enjoyed  a  miraculous  es- 
cape from  death.  My  presentiment,  therefore,  had 
not  been  at  fault. 

I  need  not  here  recall  the  coolness  which  the 
young  monarch  displayed  in  these  circumstances, 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  49 

for  it  is  still  present  in  every  memory,  nor  the 
magnificent  indifference  with  which  he  looked  upon 
the  tragic  incident: 

"I  have  received  my  baptism  of  fire,"  he  said  to 
me,  a  couple  of  days  later,  "and,  upon  my  word, 
it  was  much  less  exciting  than  I  expected!" 

Alfonso  XIII,  in  fact,  has  a  fine  contempt  for 
danger.  Like  the  late  King  Humbert,  he  con- 
siders that  assassination  is  one  of  the  little  draw- 
backs attendant  on  the  trade  of  king.  He  gave 
a  splendid  proof  of  this  courage  at  the  time  of  the, 
Madrid  bomb,  of  which  I  shall  speak  later;  and  I 
was  able  to  see  it  for  myself  two  days  after  the  at- 
tempted assassination  in  the  Rue  de  Rohan. 

On  leaving  Paris,  our  royal  visitor  went  to  Cher- 
bourg, where  I  accompanied  him,  to  embark  on 
board  the  British  royal  yacht,  which  was  to  take 
him  to  England.  As  we  approached  the  town  in 
the  early  morning,  the  presidential  train  was 
shunted  on  to  the  special  line  that  leads  direct  to 
the  dockyard.  Suddenly,  while  we  were  running 
pretty  fast,  a  short  stop  took  place,  producing  a 
violent  shock  in  all  the  carriages.  The  reader  can 
imagine  the  excitement.  The  railway-officials,  of- 
ficers and  chamberlains  of  the  court  sprang  out  on 
the  permanent  way  and  rushed  to  the  royal  saloon. 

"Another  attempt?"  asked  the  King,  calmly 
smiling,  as  he  put  his  head  out  of  the  window. 


50     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

We  all  thought  so  at  the  first  moment.  For- 
tunately, it  was  only  a  slight  accident :  the  rear  lug- 
gage-van had  left  the  rails  through  a  mistake  in 
the  shunting.  I  hastened  to  explain  the  matter  to 
the  King. 

"You'll  see,"  he  at  once  replied,  "they  will  say, 
all  the  same,  that  it  was  an  attempt  on  my  life:  I 
must  let  my  mother  know  quickly,  or  she  will  be 
frightened." 

The  King  was  right.  Someone,  we  never  dis- 
covered who,  had  already  found  means  to  telegraph 
to  Queen  Maria  Christina  that  a  fresh  attack  had 
been  made  on  her  son.  There  are  always  plenty 
of  bearers  of  ill-news,  even  where  sovereigns  are 
concerned  and  especially  when  the  news  is  false! 

I  took  leave  of  the  King  at  Cherbourg  and  joined 
him,  the  week  after,  at  Calais,  whence  I  was  to  ac- 
company him  to  the  Spanish  frontier,  for  he  was 
returning  direct  to  his  own  country.  This  time, 
the  official  journey  was  over;  and  I  once  more 
found  the  pleasant,  simple  young  man,  in  the  pale- 
grey  suit  and  the  soft  hat.  The  warm  welcome 
which  he  had  received  in  England  had  not  wiped 
out  his  enthusiastic  recollection  of  France. 

"By  George,"  he  declared,  "how  glad  I  am  to 
see  this  beautiful  country  again,  even  through  the 
windows  of  the  railway-carriage!" 

A  violent  shower  set  in  as  we  left  Calais.     The 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  51 

train  went  along  a  line  in  process  of  repair  and  had 
to  travel  very  slowly.  At  that  moment,  seeing 
some  gangs  of  navvies  working  under  the  diluvial 
downpour  and  soaked  to  the  skin,  the  King  leant 
out  of  the  window  and,  addressing  them: 

"Wait  a  bit!"  he  said.  "I'm  going  to  give  you 
something  to  smoke.  This  will  warm  you." 

And  the  King,  after  emptying  the  contents  of  his 
cigarette-case  into  their  horny  hands,  took  the  boxes 
of  cigars  and  cigarettes  that  lay  on  the  tables,  one 
after  the  other  and  passed  them  through  the  win- 
dow, first  to  the  delighted  labourers  and  then  to 
the  soldiers  drawn  up  on  either  side  of  the  line. 
They  had  never  known  such  a  windfall:  it  rained 
Upmanns,  Henry  Clays  and  Turkish  cigarettes. 
When  none  were  left,  the  King  appealed  to  the 
members  of  his  suite,  whom  he  laughingly  plun- 
dered for  the  benefit  of  these  decent  fellows.  They, 
not  knowing  his  quality,  shouted  gaily: 

"Thank  you,  sir,  thank  you!     Come  back  soon!" 

We  had  but  one  regret,  that  of  remaining  with- 
out anything  to  smoke  until  we  were  able,  at  the 
next  stop,  to  replenish  our  provisions  of  tobacco 
which  had  been  exhausted  in  so  diverting  a  fashion. 

When,  on  the  following  morning,  we  reached 
Hendaye,  which  is  the  frontier  station  between 
France  and  Spain,  a  very  comical  incident  occurred 
that  amused  the  young  traveller  greatly.  By  a 


52     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

purely  fortuitous  coincidence,  they  were  waiting,  as 
we  pulled  up,  for  the  train  of  King  Carlos  of 
Portugal,  who  was  also  about  to  pay  an  official  visit 
to  France;  and  the  authorities  and  troops  had  col- 
lected on  the  platform  in  order  to  show  the  usual 
honours  to  their  new  guest.  Our  sudden  arrival, 
for  which  nobody  was  prepared,  as  Alfonso  XIII 
was  not  now  travelling  officially,  utterly  discon- 
certed the  resplendent  crowd.  Would  the  King  of 
Spain  think  that  they  were  there  on  his  account  and 
would  he  not  be  offended  when  he  discovered  his 
mistake?  It  was  a  difficult  position,  but  the  pre- 
fect rose  to  the  occasion.  As  the  King  of  Portu- 
gal's train  was  not  yet  signalled,  he  gave  orders  to 
pay  the  honours  to  King  Alfonso  XIII. 

The  moment,  therefore,  that  our  train  stopped, 
the  authorities  and  general  officers  hurried  in  our 
direction  and  the  band  of  the  regiment,  which  had 
been  practising  the  Portugese  royal  anthem,  briskly 
struck  up  the  Spanish  anthem  instead.  But  the 
King,  who  knew  what  he  was  about,  leant  from  the 
window  and  chaffingly  cried: 

"Please,  gentlemen,  please!  I  know  that  you 
are  not  here  for  me,  but  for  my  next-door  neigh- 
bour!" 

At  Irun,  the  first  Spanish  station,  where  I  was 
to  take  leave  of  our  guest,  a  fresh  surprise  awaited 
us.  There  was  not  a  trace  of  police-protection,  not 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  53 

a  soldier,  not  a  gendarme.  An  immense  crowd  had 
freely  invaded  both  platforms.  And  what  a  crowd  I 
Thousands  of  men,  women  and  children  shouted, 
sang,  waved  their  hands,  hustled  one  another  and 
fired  guns  into  the  air  for  joy,  while  the  King,  calm 
and  smiling  elbowed  his  way  from  the  presidential 
to  the  royal  train,  patting  the  children's  heads  as  he 
passed,  paying  a  compliment  to  their  mothers,  dis- 
tributing friendly  nods  to  the  men  who  were 
noisily  cheering  him.  And  I  thought  of  our  demo- 
cratic country,  in  which  we  imprison  the  rulers  of 
States  in  an  impenetrable  circle  of  police-super- 
vision, whereas  here,  in  a  monarchical  country, 
labouring  under  a  so-called  reign  of  terror,  the 
sovereign  walks  about  in  the  midst  of  strangers,  un- 
protected by  any  precautionary  measures.  It  was 
a  striking  contrast. 

But  my  mission  was  at  an  end.  Still  laughing, 
the  King,  as  he  gave  me  his  hand,  said: 

"Well,  M.  Paoli,  you  can  no  longer  say  that  you 
haven't  got  me  in  your  collection!" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Sir,"  I  replied.  "It's  not 
complete  yet." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"Why,  Sir,  I  haven't  your  portrait." 

"Oh,  that  will  be  all  right!"  And,  turning  to 
the  grand  master  of  his  court,  "Santo  Mauro, 
make  a  note:  photo  for  M.  Paoli." 


54     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

A  few  days  after,  I  received  a  photograph, 
signed  and  dated  by  the  royal  hand. 

Five  months  later,  Alfonso  XIII,  returning 
from  Germany,  where  he  had  been  to  pay  his  ac- 
cession-visit to  the  Berlin  Court,  stopped  to  spend 
a  day  incognito  in  Paris.  I  found  him  as  I  had 
left  him;  gay,  enthusiastic,  full  of  good-nature, 
glad  to  be  alive. 

"Here  I  am  again,  my  dear  M.  Paoli,"  he  said, 
when  he  perceived  me  at  the  frontier,  where, 
according  to  custom,  I  had  gone  to  meet  him. 
"But  this  time  I  shall  not  cause  you  any  great 
worry.  I  must  go  home  and  I  sha'n't  stop  for 
more  than  twenty-four  hours — worse  luck! — in 
Paris." 

On  the  other  hand,  he  wasted  none  of  his  time 
while  there.  Jumping  into  a  motor-car  the  mo- 
ment he  was  out  of  the  train,  he  first  drove  to  the 
Hotel  Bristol,  where  he  remained  just  long  enough 
to  change  his  clothes,  after  which  he  managed,  dur- 
ing his  brief  stay,  to  hear  mass  in  the  church  of  St. 
Roch,  for  it  was  Sunday,  to  pay  a  visit  to  M. 
Loubet,  to  make  some  purchases  in  the  principal 
shops,  to  lunch  with  his  aunt,  the  Infanta  Eulalie, 
to  take  a  motor-drive,  in  the  pouring  rain,  as  far  as 
Saint-Germain  and  back,  to  dine  at  the  Spanish 
Embassy  and  to  wind  up  the  evening  at  the 
Theatre  des  Varietes. 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  55 

"And  it's  like  that  every  day,  when  he's  travel- 
ling," said  one  of  his  suite  to  me. 

The  King,  I  may  say,  makes  up  for  this  daily  ex- 
penditure of  activity  with  a  tremendous  appetite.  I 
have  observed,  for  that  matter,  that  the  majority  of 
sovereigns  are  valiant  trenchermen.  Every  morn- 
ing of  his  life,  Alfonso  XIII  has  a  good  rump- 
steak  and  potatoes  for  his  first  breakfast,  often  pre- 
ceded by  eggs  and  sometimes  followed  by  salad 
and  fruit.  The  King,  on  the  other  hand,  never 
drinks  wine  and  generally  confines  himself  to  a 
tumbler  of  water  and  zucharillos,  the  national 
beverage,  composed  of  white  of  egg  beaten  up  with 
sugar. 

In  spite  of  his  continual  need  of  movement,  his 
passionate  love  of  sport  in  all  its  forms  and  es- 
pecially of  motoring,  his  expansive,  rather  mad,  but 
very  attractive  youthfulness,  Alfonso  XIII,  even 
in  his  flying  trips,  never,  as  we  have  seen,  loses  the 
occasion  of  improving  his  mind.  He  is  very  quick 
at  seizing  a  point,  possesses  a  remarkable  power  of 
assimilation  and,  although  he  does  not  read  much, 
for  he  has  no  patience,  he  is  remarkably  well-in- 
formed as  regards  the  smallest  details  that  interest 
him.  One  day,  for  instance,  he  asked  me,  point- 
blank  : 

"Do  you  know  how  many  gendarmes  there  are 
in  France?" 


66     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

I  confess  that  I  was  greatly  puzzled  what  to  re- 
ply, for  I  have  never  cared  much  about  statistics. 
I,  therefore,  ventured,  on  the  off-chance,  to  say: 

"Ten  thousand." 

"Ten  thousand !  Come,  M.  Paoli,  what  are  you 
thinking  of?  That's  the  number  we  have  in  Spain. 
It's  more  like  twenty  thousand." 

This  figure,  as  I  afterwards  learnt,  was  strictly 
accurate. 

As  for  business  of  State,  I  also  noticed  that  the 
King  devoted  more  time  to  it  than  his  restless  life 
would  lead  one  to  believe.  Rising  winter  and  sum- 
mer at  six  o'clock,  he  stays  indoors  and  works 
regularly  during  the  early  portion  of  the  morning 
and  often  again  at  night.  In  this  connexion,  one 
of  his  ministers  said  to  me: 

"He  never  shows  a  sign  of  either  weariness  or 
boredom.  The  King's  'frivolity'  is  a  popular  fal- 
lacy. On  the  contrary,  he  is  terribly  painstaking. 
Just  like  the  Queen  Mother,  he  insists  upon  clear 
and  detailed  explanations,  before  signing  the  least 
document;  and  he  knows  quite  well  how  to  make  his 
will  felt.  Besides,  he  is  fond  of  work  and  he  can 
work  no  matter  where :  in  a  motor-car,  in  a  boat,  in 
the  train,  as  well  as  in  his  study." 

But  it  was  especially  on  the  occasion  of  the  event 
which  was  to  mark  an  indelible  date  in  his  life,  a 
fair  and  happy  date,  that  I  had  time  to  observe  him 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  57 

and  to  come  to  know  him  better.  The  reader  will 
have  guessed  that  I  am  referring  to  his  en- 
gagement. The  duties  which  I  fulfilled  during  a 
quarter  of  a  century  have  sometimes  involved  dif- 
ficult moments,  delicate  responsibilities,  thankless 
tasks,  but  they  have  also  procured  me  many  charm- 
ing compensations;  and  I  have  no  more  delightful 
recollection  than  that  of  witnessing,  at  first  hand, 
the  fresh  and  touching  royal  idyll,  the  simple,  cloud- 
less romance,  which  began  one  fine  evening  in 
London,  was  subsequently  continued  under  the 
sunny  sky  of  the  Basque  coast  and  ended  by  lead- 
ing to  one  of  those  rare  unions  which  satisfy  the 
exigencies  both  of  public  policy  and  of  the  heart. 

Like  his  father  before  him,  Alfonso  XIII,  when 
his  ministers  began  to  hint  discreetly  about  possible 
"alliances,"  contented  himself  with  replying: 

"I  shall  marry  a  princess  who  takes  my  fancy  and 
nobody  else.  I  want  to  love  my  wife." 

Nevertheless,  diplomatic  intrigues  fashioned 
themselves  around  the  young  sovereign.  The 
Emperor  William  would  have  liked  to  see  a 
German  princess  sharing  the  throne  of  Spain;  a 
marriage  with  an  Austrian  archduchess  would  have 
continued  a  time-honoured  tradition ;  the  question  of 
a  French  princess  was  also  mooted,  I  believe. 
But  the  political  rapprochement  between  Spain 
and  England  had  just  been  accomplished  under 


68     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

French  auspices;  an  Anglo-Spanish  marriage 
seemed  to  correspond  with  the  interests  of  Spain; 
and  it  so  happened  that  the  Princess  Patricia 
of  Connaught  had  lately  been  seen  in  Anda- 
lusia. Her  name  was  on  all  men's  lips;  already, 
in  the  silence  of  the  palace,  official  circles  were  pre- 
paring for  this  union.  Only  one  detail  had  been 
omitted,  but  it  was  a  detail  of  the  first  importance : 
that  of  consulting  the  two  persons  directly  inter- 
ested, who  did  not  even  know  each  other. 

When  the  King  went  to  England,  no  one 
thought  for  a  moment  but  that  he  would  return  en- 
gaged— and  engaged  to  Patricia  of  Connaught. 
The  diplomatists,  however,  had  reckoned  without  a 
factor,  which,  doubtless,  was  foreign  to  them,  but 
which  was  all-powerful  in  the  eyes  of  Alfonso 
XIII :  the  little  factor  known  as  love. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  when  the  two  young  people 
met,  they  did  not  attract  each  other.  On  the  other 
hand,  at  the  ball  given  in  the  King's  honour  at 
Buckingham  Palace,  Alfonso  never  took  his  eyes 
off  a  young,  fair-haired  princess,  whose  radiant 
beauty  shed  all  the  glory  of  spring  around  her. 

"Who  is  that?"  asked  the  King. 

"Princess  Ena  of  Battenberg,"  was  the  reply. 

The  two  were  presented,  danced  and  talked  to- 
gether, met  again  on  the  next  day  and  on  the  fol- 
lowing days. 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  59 

And,  when  the  King  returned  to  Spain,  he  left 
his  heart  in  England. 

But  he  did  not  breathe  a  word  about  it.  His 
little  idyll,  which  took  the  form  of  an  interchange 
of  letters  and  postcards  as  well  as  of  secret  nego- 
tiations with  a  view  to  marriage — negotiations 
conducted  with  the  English  royal  family  by  the 
King  in  person — was  pursued  in  the  greatest 
mystery.  People  knew,  of  course,  that  the  princess 
and  the  King  liked  and  admired  each  other;  but 
they  knew  nothing  of  the  young  monarch's  private 
plans.  Moreover,  he  took  a  pleasure  in  mystify- 
ing his  entourage.  He  who  had  once  been  so  ex- 
pansive now  became  suddenly  contemplative  and 
reserved. 

Soon  after  his  return,  he  ordered  a  yacht;  and, 
when  the  time  came  to  christen  her,  he  made  the 
builders  paint  on  the  prow  in  gold  letters: 

PRINCESS     .     .    . 

The  comment  aroused  by  these  three  little  dots 
may  be  easily  imagined. 

The  moment,  however,  was  at  hand  when  the 
name  of  the  royal  yacht's  godmother  and,  therefore, 
of  the  future  Queen  of  Spain  was  to  be  revealed. 
One  morning  in  January,  1906,  I  received  a  letter 
from  Miss  Minnie  Cochrane,  Princess  Henry  of 
Battenberg's  faithful  lady-in-waiting,  telling  me 


60     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

that  the  princess  and  her  daughter,  Princess  Ena, 
were  leaving  shortly  for  Biarritz,  to  stay  with  their 
cousin,  the  Princess  Frederica  of  Hanover,  and  in- 
viting me  to  accompany  them.  This  kind  thought 
is  explained  by  the  fact  that  I  had  known  the  prin- 
cess and  her  daughter  for  many  years :  I  had  often 
had  occasions  to  see  Princess  Beatrice  with  the  late 
Queen  Victoria,  to  whom  she  showed  the  most  ten- 
der filial  affection;  I  had  also  known  Princess  Ena 
as  a  little  girl,  when  she  still  wore  short  frocks  and 
long  fair  curls  and  used  to  play  with  her  doll  under 
the  fond,  smiling  gaze  of  her  august  grandmother. 
She  was  then  a  grave  and  reflective  child;  she  had 
great,  deep,  expressive  blue  eyes;  and  she  was  a 
little  shy,  like  her  mother. 

When  at  Calais,  I  beheld  a  fresh  and  beautiful 
young  girl,  unreserved  and  gay,  a  real  fairy  prin- 
cess, whose  face,  radiant  with  gladness,  so  evidently 
reflected  a  very  sweet,  secret  happiness;  when,  on 
the  day  after  her  arrival  at  Biarritz,  I  unexpectedly 
saw  King  Alfonso  arrive  in  a  great  state  of  excite* 
ment  and  surprised  the  first  glance  which  they  ex- 
changed at  the  door  of  the  villa,  then  I  understood. 
I  was,  therefore,  not  in  the  least  astonished  when 
Miss  Cochrane,  whom  I  had  ventured  to  ask  if  it 
was  true  that  there  was  a  matrimonial  project  on 
foot  between  the  King  and  the  princess,  answered, 
with  a  significant  smile : 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  61 

"I  think  so;  it  is  not  officially  settled  yet;  it  will 
be  decided  here." 


The  Villa  Mouriscot,  where  the  princesses  were 
staying,  was  a  picturesque  Basque  chalet,  elegantly 
and  comfortably  furnished.  Standing  on  a  height, 
at  two  miles  from  Biarritz,  whence  the  eye  com- 
manded the  magnificent  circle  of  hills,  and  buried 
in  the  midst  of  luxuriant  and  fragrant  gardens,  in- 
tersected by  shady  and  silent  walks,  it  formed  an 
appropriately  poetic  setting  for  the  romance  of  the 
royal  betrothal. 

The  King  came  every  day.  Wrapped  in  a  huge 
cloak,  with  a  motoring-cap  and  goggles,  he  would 
arrive  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  from  San  Se- 
bastian in  his  double  Panhard,  which  he  drove 
himself,  except  on  the  rare  occasions  when  he  en- 
trusted the  steering-wheel  to  his  excellent  French 
chauffeur,  Antonin,  who  accompanied  him  on 
all  his  excursions.  His  friends,  the  Marquis  de 
Viana,  the  young  Conde  de  Villalobar,  counsel- 
lor to  the  Spanish  Embassy  in  London,  Senor 
Quinones  de  Leon,  the  charming  attache  to  the 
Paris  Embassy,  the  Conde  del  Grove,  his  faithful 
aide-de-camp,  or  the  Marquis  de  Pacheco,  com- 
manding the  palace  halberdiers,  formed  his  usual 
suite.  As  soon  as  the  motor  had  passed  through 


62     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

the  gates  and  stopped  before  the  door,  where  Baron 
von  Pawel-Rammingen,  the  Princess  Frederica's 
husband,  and  Colonel  Lord  William  Cecil,  Princess 
Henry  of  Battenberg's  comptroller,  awaited  him, 
the  King  hurried  to  the  drawing-room,  where  the 
pretty  princess  sat  looking  out  for  his  arrival,  as 
impatient  for  the  meeting  as  the  King  himself. 

After  the  King  had  greeted  his  hosts  at  the  villa, 
he  and  the  princess  walked  into  the  gardens  and 
exchanged  much  lively  talk  as  they  strolled  about 
the  paths  in  which,  as  Gounod's  song  says,  "lovers 
lose  their  way."  They  returned  in  time  for  the 
family  lunch,  a  very  simple  repast  to  which  the 
King's  tremendous  appetite  did  full  honour.  He 
used  often  to  send  for  Fraulein  Zinska,  the  Prin- 
cess Frederica's  old  Hanoverian  cook,  and  con- 
gratulate her  on  her  culinary  capacities,  a  proceed- 
ing which  threw  the  good  woman  into  an  ecstasy 
of  delight.  After  lunch,  the  young  people,  accom- 
panied by  Miss  Cochrane  as  chaperone,  went  out 
in  the  motor,  not  returning  until  nearly  dark.  On 
rainy  days,  of  course,  there  was  no  drive;  but  in 
the  drawing-room  of  the  villa  the  Princess  Fred- 
erica  had  thoughtfully  contrived  a  sort  of  recess, 
furnished  with  a  sofa,  in  which  the  engaged  couple 
could  pursue  their  discreet  flirtation  at  their  ease. 
When  they  took  refuge  there,  the  young  Prince 


THE   KING   AND   QUEEN    OF  SPAIN   AND   BABY 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  63 

Alexander  of  Battenberg,  who  had  joined  his  fam- 
ily at  Biarritz,  used  to  tease  them: 

"Look  out!"  he  would  cry  to  anyone  entering 
the  room.  "Be  careful!  Don't  disturb  the  lov- 
ers!" 

In  the  evening,  at  dinner,  the  suite  were  present. 
The  King  changed  into  evening-clothes,  with  the 
collar  of  the  Golden  Fleece.  At  half -past  ten,  he 
left  for  the  station  and  returned  to  San  Sebastian 
by  the  Sud-Express. 

After  a  few  days,  although  they  were  not  offi- 
cially engaged,  no  one  doubted  that  the  event  was 
near  at  hand. 

"She's  nice,  isn't  she?"  the  King  asked  me,  point- 
blank. 

A  significant  detail  served  to  show  me  how  far 
things  had  gone.  One  day,  the  two  young  people, 
accompanied  by  the  Princesses  Frederica  and 
Beatrice  and  the  whole  little  court,  walked  to  the 
end  of  the  grounds,  to  a  spot  near  the  lake,  where 
two  holes  had  been  newly  dug.  A  gardener  stood 
waiting  for  them,  carrying  two  miniature  fir-plants 
in  his  arms. 

"This  is  mine,"  said  the  King. 

"And  this  is  mine,"  said  the  princess,  in  French, 
for  they  constantly  spoke  French  together. 

"We  must  plant  the  trees  side  by  side,"  declared 


64     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

the  King,  "so  that  they  may  always  remind  us  of 
these  never-to-be-forgotten  days." 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  In  accordance  with 
the  old  English  tradition,  the  two  of  them,  each 
laying  hold  of  a  spade,  dug  up  the  earth  and  heaped 
it  around  the  shrubs  with  shouts  of  laughter  that 
rang  clear  through  the  silent  wood.  Then,  when 
the  King,  who,  in  spite  of  his  strength  of  arm,  is 
a  poor  gardener,  perceived  that  the  princess  had 
finished  her  task  first : 

"There  is  no  doubt  about  it,"  he  said,  "I  am 
very  awkward !  I  must  put  in  a  month  or  two  with 
the  Engineers !" 

On  returning  to  the  villa,  he  gave  the  princess 
her  first  present:  a  heart  set  in  brilliants.  It  was 
certainly  a  day  of  symbols. 

On  the  following  day,  things  took  a  more  definite 
turn.  The  King  came  to  fetch  the  princesses  in 
the  morning  to  take  them  to  San  Sebastian,  where 
they  met  Queen  Maria  Christina.  Nobody  knew 
what  happened  in  the  course  of  the  interview  and 
the  subsequent  private  luncheon  at  the  Miramar 
Palace.  But  it  was,  beyond  a  doubt,  a  decisive  day. 
At  Fuentarabia,  the  first  Spanish  town  through 
which  they  passed  on  their  way  to  San  Sebastian  in 
the  morning,  the  King  said  to  the  princess  : 

"You  are  now  on  Spanish  soil." 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  65 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "I  am  so  glad!" 

"It  will  soon  be  for  good." 

And  they  smiled  to  each  other. 

The  frantic  cheering  that  greeted  her  entry  at 
San  Sebastian,  the  hail  of  flowers  that  fell  at  her 
feet  when  she  passed  through  the  streets,  the  moth- 
erly kiss  with  which  she  was  received  at  the  door 
of  Queen  Maria  Christina's  drawing-room  must 
have  given  Princess  Ena  to  understand  that  all 
Spain  had  confirmed  its  sovereign's  choice  and  ap- 
plauded his  good  taste. 

Twenty-four  hours  after  this  visit,  the  Queen 
Mother,  in  her  turn,  went  to  Biarritz  and  took  tea 
at  the  Villa  Mouriscot.  The  King  had  gone  on 
before  her.  Intense  happiness  was  reflected  on 
every  face.  When  the  Queen,  who  had  very  gra- 
ciously sent  for  me  to  thank  me  for  the  care  which 
I  was  taking  of  her  son,  stepped  into  her  carriage, 
she  said  to  the  princess,  with  a  smile : 

"We  shall  soon  see  you  in  Madrid." 

Then,  taking  a  white  rose  from  the  bouquet  with 
which  the  Mayor  of  Biarritz  had  presented  her,  she 
gave  it  to  the  princess,  who  pressed  it  to  her  lips 
before  pinning  it  to  her  bodice. 

That  same  evening,  the  King,  beaming  all  over 
his  face,  cried  to  me  from  a  distance,  the  moment 
he  saw  me : 


66     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"It's  all  right,  Paoli;  the  official  demand  has  been 
granted.  You  see  before  you  the  happiest  of 
men!" 

He  was  indeed  happy,  so  much  so  that  his  gaiety 
infected  everybody  around  him.  Each  of  us  felt 
that  he  had  some  small  part  in  this  frank  happiness, 
in  this  touching  romance ;  and  we  felt  all  its  charm 
as  though  our  hearts  were  but  twenty  years  old 
again.  The  English  themselves,  forgetting  that 
their  princess  was  about  to  marry  a  Catholic  sov- 
ereign and  that  she  would  have  to  forswear  the 
Protestant  faith — an  essential  condition  of  the  mar- 
riage— the  English,  usually  so  strict  in  these  mat- 
ters, greeted  this  love-match  with  enthusiasm.  One 
of  the  British  ministers  gave  vent  to  a  very  pretty 
phrase.  Someone  expressing  surprise,  in  his  pres- 
ence, at  the  acquiescence  shown  in  this  connexion 
by  King  Edward's  government : 

"Mankind  loves  a  lover,"  he  replied.  "Especially 
in  England." 

The  days  that  followed  upon  the  betrothal  were 
days  of  enchantment  for  the  young  couple,  now 
freed  from  all  preoccupation  and  constraint.  One 
met  them  daily,  motoring  along  the  picturesque 
roads  of  the  Basque  country  or  walking  through 
the  streets  of  Biarritz,  stopping  before  the  shop- 
windows,  at  the  photographer's  or  at  the  pastry- 
cook's. 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  67 

"Do  you  know,  Paoli,"  said  the  King  to  me,  one 
day,  "I've  changed  the  princess's  name.  Instead 
of  calling  her  Ena,  which  I  don't  like,  I  call  her 
Nini.  That's  very  Parisian,  isn't  it?" 

The  royal  lover,  as  I  have  already  said,  prided 
himself  with  justice  on  his  Parisianism,  as  witness 
the  following  scrap  of  dialogue,  which  took  place 
one  morning  in  the  street  at  Biarritz : 

"M.  Paoli." 

"Sir?" 

"Do  you  know  the  tune  of  the  Maschich?" 

"Upon  my  word,  I  can't  say  I  do,  Sir!" 

"Or  of  Viens,  Poupoule?" 

"No,  Sir." 

"Why,  then  you  know  nothing.  Paoli  .  .  . 
you're  a  disgrace!" 

Thereupon,  half -opening  the  door  of  the  confec- 
tioner's shop  where  Princess  Ena  was  making  a 
leisurely  selection  of  cakes,  he  began  to  hum  the 
famous  air  of  Viens,  Poupoule! 

It  will  readily  be  imagined  that  the  protection 
of  the  King  was  not  always  an  easy  matter.  True, 
it  was  understood  that  I  should  invariably  be  told 
beforehand  of  the  programme  of  the  day;  but  the 
plans  would  be  changed  an  hour  later;  and,  when 
the  young  couple  had  once  set  out  at  random,  noth- 
ing was  more  difficult  than  to  catch  them  up. 

I  remember  one  morning  when  the  King  in- 


68     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

formed  me  that  he  did  not  intend  to  go  out  that  day. 
I  thereupon  determined  to  give  myself  a  few  hours' 
rest.  I  had  returned  to  my  hotel  and  was  begin- 
ning to  enjoy  the  unaccustomed  sense  of  repose 
when  the  telephone  bell  rang: 

"The  King  and  the  Princess  have  gone  out,"  said 
the  voice  of  one  of  my  detectives.  "It's  impossible 
to  find  them." 

Greatly  alarmed,  I  was  hurrying  to  the  Villa 
Mouriscot,  when,  at  a  bend  in  the  road,  I  saw  the 
fugitives  themselves  before  me,  accompanied  by  the 
Princess  Beatrice. 

"I  say!"  cried  the  King,  in  great  glee.  "We 
gave  your  inspector  the  slip !" 

And,  as  I  was  venturing  to  utter  a  discreet  re- 
proach : 

"Don't  be  angry  with  us,  M.  Paoli,"  the  princess 
broke  in,  very  prettily.  "The  King  isn't  fright- 
ened ;  no  more  am  I.  Who  would  think  of  hurting 
us?" 

The  great  delight  of  Alfonso,  who  is  very  play- 
fully inclined,  was  to  hoax  people  that  did  not  know 
who  he  was.  One  day,  motoring  into  Cambo,  the 
delicious  village  near  which  M.  Edmond  Rostand's 
property  lies,  he  entered  the  post-office  to  send  off 
some  postcards.  Seeing  the  woman  in  charge  of 
the  office  taking  the  air  outside  the  door : 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  madame,"  he  said,  very  po- 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  69 

litely.  "Could  you  tell  me  if  the  King  of  Spain 
is  expected  here  to-day?" 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  said  the  little 
post-mistress  in  an  off-hand  way. 

"Don't  you  know  him  by  sight?" 

"No." 

"Oh,  really!  They  say  he's  very  nice:  not 
exactly  handsome,  but  quite  charming,  for  all 
that." 

The  good  lady,  of  course,  suspected  nothing ;  but 
when  the  King  handed  her  his  postcards,  it  goes 
without  saying  that  she  at  once  read  the  superscrip- 
tions and  saw  that  they  were  addressed  to  the  Queen 
Mother  at  San  Sebastian,  to  the  Infanta  Dona  Paz, 
to  the  Infanta  Maria  Theresa,  to  the  prime  minister. 

"Why,  it's  the  King  himself!"  she  exclaimed, 
quite  overcome. 

Alfonso  XIII  was  already  far  on  his  road. 

The  most  amusing  adventure,  however,  was  that 
which  he  had  at  Dax.  One  morning,  he  took  it 
into  his  head  to  motor  away  to  the  parched  and 
desolate  country  of  the  Landes,  which  stretch  from 
Bayonne  to  Bordeaux.  After  a  long  and  wearing 
drive,  he  decided  to  take  the  train  back  from  Dax. 
Accompanied  by  his  friend  Senor  Quinones  de 
Leon,  he  made  for  the  station,  where  the  two  young 
men,  tired  out  and  soaked  in  perspiration,  sat  down 
in  the  refreshment-room. 


70     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"Give  us  some  lunch,  please,"  said  the  King, 
who  was  ravenously  hungry,  to  the  woman  at  the 
bar. 

The  refreshment-room,  unfortunately,  was  very 
meagrely  supplied.  When  the  two  travelling-com- 
panions had  eaten  up  the  sorry  fare  represented  by 
a  few  eggs  and  sandwiches,  which  had  probably 
been  waiting  more  than  a  month  for  a  traveller  to 
arrive  and  take  a  fancy  to  them,  the  Bang,  whose 
appetite  was  far  from  being  satisfied,  called  the 
barmaid,  a  fat  and  matronly  Bearnaise,  with  an 
upper  lip  adorned  v/ith  a  pair  of  thick  moustachios. 

"Have  you  nothing  else  to  give  us?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  a  pate  de  foie  gras,  but  it's  very  expen- 
sive," said  the  decent  creature,  whose  perspicacity 
did  not  go  to  the  length  of  seeing  a  serious  customer 
in  this  famished  and  dusty  young  man. 

"Never  mind,  let's  have  it,"  said  the  King. 

The  woman  brought  her  pate,  which  was  none 
too  fresh;  but  how  great  was  her  amazement  when 
she  saw  the  two  travellers  devour  not  only  the  liver, 
but  the  fat  as  well!  The  pot  was  emptied  and 
scraped  clean  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

Pleased  with  her  successful  morning's  trade  and 
encouraged  by  the  King's  ebullient  good-humour, 
the  barmaid  sat  down  at  the  royal  table,  and  began 
to  tell  the  King  her  family  affairs  and  questioned 
him  with  maternal  solicitude.  When,  at  last,  the 


KING  ALFONSO  XIH  71 

hour  of  departure  struck,  they  shook  hands  with 
each  other  warmly. 

Some  time  afterwards,  the  King  was  passing 
through  Dax  by  rail  and,  as  the  train  steamed  into 
the  station,  said  to  me : 

"I  have  an  acquaintance  at  Dax.  I'll  show  her 
to  you:  she  is  charming." 

The  plump  Bearnaise  was  there,  more  mous- 
tachioed than  ever.  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe 
her  comic  bewilderment  at  recognising  her  former 
customer  in  the  person  of  the  King.  He  was  de- 
lighted and,  giving  her  his  hand : 

"You  won't  refuse  to  say  How-do-you-do  to  me, 
I  hope  ?"  he  asked,  laughing. 

The  thing  turned  her  head;  what  was  bound  to 
happen  happened:  she  became  indiscreet.  From 
that  time  onwards,  she  looked  into  every  train  that 
stopped  at  Dax,  to  see  if  "her  friend"  the  King 
was  among  the  passengers;  and,  when,  instead  of 
stepping  out  on  the  platform,  he  satisfied  himself 
with  giving  her  a  friendly  nod  from  behind  the 
pane,  she  felt  immensely  disappointed:  in  fact,  she 
was  even  a  little  offended. 

The  Cambo  post-mistress  and  the  Dax  barmaid 
are  not  the  only  people  who  boast  of  having  been 
taken  in  by  Alfonso  XIII.  His  turn  for  wag- 
gery was  sometimes  vented  upon  grave  and  serious 
men.  Dr.  Moure,  of  Bordeaux,  who  attended  the 


72     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

young  monarch  when  his  nose  was  operated  upon, 
has  a  story  to  tell.  He  was  sent  for,  one  day, 
to  San  Sebastian  and  was  waiting  for  his  illus- 
trious patient  in  a  room  at  the  Miramar  Palace, 
when  the  door  opened  quickly  and  there  entered  a 
most  respectable  lady,  dressed  in  silk  flounces  and 
wearing  a  wig  and  spectacles.  Not  having  the 
honour  of  her  acquaintance,  he  made  a  deep  bow, 
to  which  she  replied  with  a  stately  courtesy. 

"It  must  be  the  earner  era-major"  he  thought  to 
himself.  "She  looks  tremendously  eighteenth- 
century." 

But  suddenly  a  great  burst  of  laughter  shook 
the  venerable  dowager's  frame  from  head  to  foot, 
her  spectacles  fell  from  her  nose,  her  wig  dropped 
likewise  and  a  clarion  voice  cried : 

"Good-morning,  doctor !     It's  1 1" 

It  was  the  King. 

The  chapter  of  anecdotes  is  inexhaustible.  And 
it  is  not  difficult  to  picture  how  this  playful  sim- 
plicity, combined  with  a  delicacy  of  feeling  and  a 
knightly  grace  to  which,  in  our  age  of  brutal  real- 
ism, we  are  no  longer  accustomed,  made  an  utter 
conquest  of  the  pretty  English  princess.  When, 
after  several  days  of  familiar  and  daily  intimacy, 
it  became  necessary  to  say  good-bye — the  princess 
was  returning  to  England  to  busy  herself  with 
preparations  for  her  marriage,  Alfonso  to  Madrid 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  73 

for  the  same  reason — when  the  moment  of  separa- 
tion had  come,  there  was  a  pang  at  the  heart  on 
both  sides.  And,  as  I  was  leaving  with  the  prin- 
cess for  Paris : 

"You're  a  lucky  man,  M.  Paoli,  to  be  going  with 
the  princess,"  said  the  King,  sadly,  as  I  was  step- 
ping into  the  railway-carriage.  "I'd  give  anything 
to  be  in  your  place  I" 

While  the  Court  of  Spain  was  employed  in  set- 
tling, down  to  the  smallest  particular,  the  cere- 
monial for  the  King's  approaching  wedding,  Prin- 
cess Ena  was  absorbed,  at  one  and  the  same  time, 
in  the  charming  details  of  her  trousseau  and  in  the 
more  austere  preparations  for  her  conversion  to 
Catholicism.  This  conversion,  as  I  have  already 
said,  was  a  sine  qua  non  to  the  consent  of  Spain  to 
her  marriage. 

The  princess  and  her  mother,  accompanied  by 
Miss  Cochrane  and  Lord  William  Cecil,  went  and 
stayed  in  an  hotel  at  Versailles  for  the  period  of 
religious  instruction  which  precedes  the  admission 
of  a  neophyte  within  the  pale  of  the  Roman  Catho- 
lic Church;  and  it  was  at  Versailles,  on  a  cold 
February  morning,  that  she  abjured  her  Protes- 
tantism in  a  sequestered  chapel  of  the  cathedral. 
Why  did  she  select  the  town  of  Louis  XIV  in  which 
to  accomplish  this  important  and  solemn  act  of  her 
life?  Doubtless,  because  of  the  peaceful  silence 


74     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

that  surrounded  it  and  of  the  past,  filled  with  mel- 
ancholy grandeur,  which  it  conjured  up;  perhaps, 
also,  because  of  the  association  of  ideas  suggested 
to  her  mind  by  the  city  of  the  Great  King  and  the 
origins  of  the  family  of  the  Spanish  Bourbons  of 
which  it  was  the  cradle.  The  heart  of  woman  some- 
times provides  instances  of  this  delicacy  of  thought. 

The  last  months  of  the  winter  of  1906  were  spent 
by  the  engaged  pair  in  eager  expectation  of  the 
great  event  that  was  to  unite  them  for  good  and  all 
and  in  the  manifold  occupations  which  it  involved. 
The  date  of  the  wedding  was  fixed  for  the  31st  of 
May.  A  few  days  before  that  I  went  to  Calais 
to  meet  the  princess.  It  was  as  though  nature,  in 
her  charming  vernal  awakening,  was  smiling  upon 
the  royal  bride  and  had  hastily  decked  herself  in  her 
best  to  greet  the  young  princess,  as  she  passed,  with 
all  her  youthful  gladness.  But  the  princess  saw 
nothing:  she  had  bidden  a  last  farewell  to  her  coun- 
try, her  family  and  her  home ;  and,  despite  the  hap- 
piness that  called  her,  the  fond  memory  of  all  that 
she  was  quitting  oppressed  her  heart. 

"It  is  nothing,  M.  Paoli,"  she  said,  when  I  asked 
the  cause  of  her  sadness,  "it  is  nothing:  I  cannot 
help  feeling  touched  when  I  think  that  I  am  leaving 
the  country  where  I  have  spent  so  many  happy  days 
to  go  towards  the  unknown." 

She  did  not  sleep  that  night.     At  three  o'clock 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  75 

in  the  morning,  she  was  up  and  dressed,  ready  to 
appear  before  her  future  husband,  before  the  na- 
tion that  was  waiting  to  welcome  her,  while  the 
King,  at  the  same  hour,  was  striding  up  and  down 
the  platform  at  Irun,  in  a  fever  of  excitement, 
peering  into  the  night  so  as  to  be  the  first  to  see 
the  yellow  gleams  of  the  train  and  nervously  light- 
ing cigarette  upon  cigarette  to  calm  his  impatience. 

Then  came  the  whirlwind  of  festivals  at  which 
the  King  invited  me  to  be  present,  the  sumptuous 
magnificence  of  the  marriage-ceremony  in  the  an- 
cient church  of  Los  Geronimos.  It  was  as  though 
the  old  Court  of  Spain  had  regained  its  pomp 
of  the  days  of  long  ago.  Once  more,  the  streets, 
all  dressed  with  flags,  were  filled  with  antiquated 
chariots,  with  heraldic  costumes,  with  glittering 
uniforms;  from  the  balconies  draped  with  preci- 
ous stuffs,  flowers  fell  in  torrents;  cheers  rose 
from  the  serried  ranks  of  the  crowd;  an  intense, 
noisy,  mad  gaiety  reigned  in  all  men's  eyes,  on  all 
men's  lips,  while,  from  behind  the  windows  of  the 
state-coach  that  carried  her  to  the  church,  the  sur- 
prised and  delighted  princess,  forgetting  her  fleet- 
ing melancholy,  now  smiled  her  acknowledgments 
of  this  mighty  welcome. 

A  tragic  incident  was  fated  brutally  to  interrupt 
her  fair  young  dream.  Finding  no  seat  in  the 
church  of  Los  Geronimos,  the  dimensions  of  which 


76     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

are  quite  small,  I  took  refuge  in  one  of  the  Court 
stands  erected  along  the  route  taken  by  the  sov- 
ereigns; and  I  was  watching  the  procession  pass 
on  its  return  to  the  palace,  when  my  ears  were  sud- 
denly deafened  by  a  tremendous  explosion.  At 
first,  no  one  realised  where  it  came  from.  We 
thought  that  it  was  the  report  of  a  cannon-shot  fired 
to  announce  the  end  of  the  ceremony.  But  sud- 
denly loud  yells  arose,  people  hustled  one  another 
and  rushed  away  madly,  shouting: 

"It's  a  murder  I  The  King  and  Queen  are 
killed!" 

Terrified,  I  tried  to  hasten  to  the  street  from 
which  the  cries  came.  A  file  of  soldiers,  drawn  up 
across  the  roadway  stopped  me.  I  then  ran  to  the 
palace,  where  I  arrived  at  exactly  the  same  moment 
as  the  royal  coach,  from  which  the  King  and  the 
young  Queen  alighted.  They  were  pale,  but  calm. 
The  King  held  his  wife's  hand  tenderly  in  his  own 
and  stared  in  dismay  at  the  long  white  train  of  her 
bridal  dress,  stained  with  great  blotches  of  blood. 
Filled  with  horror,  I  went  up  to  Alfonso  XIII : 

"Oh,  Sir!"  I  cried,  "at  least  both  of  you  are  safe 
and  sound!" 

"Yes,"  he  replied.  Then,  lowering  his  voice,  he 
added,  "But  there  are  some  killed.  Poor  people! 
What  an  infamous  thing!" 

Under  her  great  white  veil,  the  Queen,  standing 


KING  ALFONSO  XIII  7T 

between  Queen  Maria  Christina  and  Princess 
Henry  of  Battenberg,  still  both  trembling,  wept 
silent  tears.  Then  the  King,  profoundly  moved, 
drew  nearer  to  her  and  kissed  her  slowly  on  the 
cheek,  whispering  these  charming  words: 

"I  do  hope  that  you  are  not  angry  with  me  for 
the  emotion  which  I  have  involuntarily  caused 
you?" 

What  she  replied  I  did  not  hear:  I  only  saw  a 
kiss. 

Notwithstanding  the  warm  manifestations  of 
loyalty  which  the  people  of  Spain  lavished  upon 
their  sovereigns  on  the  following  day,  Queen  Vic- 
toria is  said  to  have  been  long  haunted  by  the 
horrible  spectacle  which  she  had  beheld  and  to  have 
retained  an  intense  feeling  of  terror  and  sadness 
from  that  tragic  hour.  But,  God  be  praised, 
everything  passes.  When,  later,  I  had  the  honour 
of  again  finding  myself  in  attendance  upon  the 
King  and  Queen  at  Biarritz  and  in  Paris,  I  recog- 
nised once  more  the  happy  and  loving  young  cou- 
ple whom  I  had  known  at  the  time  of  their 
engagement.  Alfonso  XIII  had  the  same  gaiety, 
the  same  high  spirits  as  before;  and  the  Queen's 
mind  seemed  to  show  no  trace  of  painful  memories 
or  gloomy  apprehensions. 

In  the  course  of  the  first  journey  which  I  took 
with  them  a  year  after  the  murderous  attempt  in 


78     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Madrid,  the  King  himself  acquainted  me  with  the 
real  cause  of  this  happy  quietude  so  promptly  re- 
covered. Walking  into  the  compartment  where  I 
was  sitting,  he  lifted  high  into  the  air  a  pink  and 
chubby  child  and,  holding  it  up  for  me  to  look  at, 
said,  with  more  than  a  touch  of  pride  in  his  voice: 
"There!  What  do  you  think  of  him?  Isn't  he 
splendid?" 


Ill 

THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA 


Ill 

THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA 

1. 

MUST  I  confess  it?    When  I  was  told,  a 
few  weeks  before  the  opening  of  the  In- 
ternational Exhibition  of  1900,  that  I 
should  have  the  honour  of  being  attached  to  the 
person  of  Muzaffr-ed-Din,   King  of   Kings   and 
Shah  of  Persia,  during  the  whole  duration  of  the 
official  visit  which  he  contemplated  paying  to  Paris, 
I  did  not  welcome  the  news  with  the  alacrity  which 
it  ought  doubtless  to  have  evoked. 

And  yet  I  had  no  reason  for  any  prejudice 
against  this  monarch:  I  did  not  even  know  him. 
My  apprehensions  were  grounded  on  more  remote 
causes:  I  recalled  the  memories  which  a  former 
Shah,  his  predecessor,  had  left  among  us.  Nasr- 
ed-Din  was  a  strange  and  capricious  sovereign, 
who  had  never  succeeded  in  making  up  his  mind, 
when  he  came  to  Europe,  to  leave  on  the  further 
shore,  so  to  speak,  the  manners  and  customs  of 
his  country  or  to  lay  aside  the  troublesome  fancies 
in  which  his  reckless  despotism  loved  to  indulge. 

81 


82     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Was  it  not  related  of  him  that,  while  staying  in 
the  country,  in  France,  he  caused  a  sheep  or  two 
to  be  sacrificed  every  morning  in  his  bed-room, 
in  order  to  ensure  the  Prophet's  clemency  until  the 
evening?  And  that  he  had  the  amiable  habit  of 
buying  anything  that  took  his  fancy,  but  neglect- 
ing to  pay  the  bill? 

Lastly,  this  very  delicious  story  was  told  about 
him.  The  Shah  had  asked  whether  he  could  not, 
by  way  of  amusement,  be  present  at  an  execution 
of  capital  punishment  during  one  of  his  stays  in 
Paris.  It  so  happened  that  the  occasion  offered. 
He  was  invited  to  go  one  morning  to  the  Place  de 
la  Roquette,  where  the  scaffold  had  been  erected. 
He  arrived  with  his  diamonds  and  his  suite;  but, 
the  moment  he  saw  the  condemned  man,  his  gen- 
erous heart  was  filled  with  a  sudden  tenderness  for 
the  murderer: 

"Not  that  one.  The  other!"  he  ordered,  point- 
ing to  the  public  prosecutor,  who  was  presiding  over 
the  ceremony. 

Picture  the  magistrate's  face,  while  the  Shah  in- 
sisted and  thought  it  discourteous  of  them  not  at 
once  to  yield  to  his  wishes. 

I  therefore  asked  myself  with  a  certain  dismay 
what  unpleasant  surprises  his  successor  might  have 
in  store  for  me.  He  seemed  to  me  to  come  from 
the  depths  of  a  very  old  and  mysterious  form  of 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  83 

humanity,  travelling  from  his  capital  to  the  shores  of 
Europe,  slowly,  by  easy  stages,  as  in  the  mediaeval 
times,  across  deserts  and  mountains  and  blue-domed 
dead  cities,  escorted  by  a  fabulous  baggage-train 
of  rare  stuffs,  of  praying-carpets,  of  marvel- 
lous jewels,  an  army  of  turbaned  horsemen,  a 
swarm  of  officials,  a  harem  of  dancing-girls  and  a 
long  file  of  camels. 

I  asked  myself  if  I  too  would  be  obliged  to  as- 
sist at  sacrifices  of  heifers  and  to  console  unpaid 
tradesmen,  all  to  be  finally  pointed  out  by  His  Maj- 
esty as  a  "substitute"  under  the  knife  of  the  guillo- 
tine. 

However,  I  was  needlessly  alarmed:  in  Persia, 
thank  goodness,  the  Shahs  succeed,  but  do  not  re- 
semble one  another.  I  became  fully  aware  of  this 
when  I  was  admitted  into  the  intimacy  of  our  new 
guest.  Muzaffr-ed-Din  had  nothing  in  common 
with  his  father.  He  was  an  overgrown  child,  whose 
massive  stature,  great  bushy  moustache,  very  kind, 
round  eyes,  prominent  stomach  and  general  adi- 
posity formed  a  contrast  with  his  backward  mental 
condition  and  his  sleepy  intelligence.  He  had,  in 
fact,  the  brain  of  a  twelve-year-old  schoolboy,  to- 
gether with  a  schoolboy's  easy  astonishment,  can- 
dour and  curiosity.  He  busied  himself  exclusively 
with  small  things,  the  only  things  that  excited  and 
interested  him.  He  was  gentle,  good-natured,  an 


84     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

arrant  coward,  generous  at  times  and  extremely 
capricious,  but  his  whims  never  went  so  far  as  to 
take  pleasure  in  the  suffering  of  others.  He  loved 
life,  was  enormously  attached  to  it,  in  fact;  and  he 
liked  me  too  with  a  real  affection,  which  was  spon- 
taneous and,  at  times,  touching: 

"Paoli,  worthy  Paoli,"  he  said  to  me  one  day,  in 
an  expansive  mood,  fixing  his  round  pupils  upon 
me,  "you  .  .  .  my  good,  my  dear  domestic!" 

When  I  appeared  surprised  and  even  a  little  of- 
fended at  the  place  which  he  was  allotting  me  in 
the  social  scale : 

"His  Majesty  means  to  say,"  explained  the 
grand  vizier,  "that  he  looks  upon  you  as  belonging 
to  the  family.  'Domestic'  in  his  mind  means  a 
friend  of  the  house,  according  to  the  true  etymology 
of  the  word,  which  is  derived  from  the  Latin 
domiis.  .  .  ." 

The  intention  was  pretty  enough;  I  asked  no 
more,  remembering  that  Muzaffr-ed-Din  spoke 
French  with  difficulty  and  employed  a  sort  of  negro 
chatter  to  express  his  thoughts. 

2. 

At  the  time  of  his  first  stay  in  Paris,  he  had  the 
privilege  of  inaugurating  the  famous  Sovereigns' 
Palace,  which  the  government  had  fitted  up  in  the 
Avenue  du  Bois  de  Boulogne  for  the  entertainment 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  85 

of  its  royal  visitors.  The  house  was  a  compara- 
tively small  one;  on  the  other  hand,  it  was  sump- 
tuously decorated.  The  national  furniture-reposi- 
tory had  sent  some  of  the  finest  pieces  to  be  found 
in  its  historic  store-rooms.  In  fact,  I  believe  that 
the  Shah  slept  in  the  bed  of  Napoleon  I  and 
washed  his  hands  and  face  in  the  Empress  Marie- 
Louise's  basin;  things  that  interested  him  but  lit- 
tle. Great  memories  were  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  him ;  he  infinitely  preferred  futile  realities  in  the 
form  of  useless  objects,  whose  glitter  pleased  his 
eye,  and  of  more  or  less  harmonious  sounds,  whose 
vibrations  tickled  his  ears. 

His  tastes  were  proved  on  the  day  of  his  arrival 
by  two  quick  decisions :  he  ordered  to  be  packed  up 
for  Teheran  the  grand  piano  which  adorned  his 
drawing-room  and  the  motor-car  which  awaited  his 
good  pleasure  outside,  after  hearing  the  one,  trying 
the  other  and  lavishly  paying  for  both.  He  would 
not  be  denied. 

His  amazement  was  great  when  he  visited  the 
exhibition  for  the  first  time.  The  wonderful  cosmo- 
politan city  that  seemed  to  have  leapt  into  existence 
in  the  space  of  one  of  the  thousand  and  one  nights 
of  the  Persian  legend  stirred  his  eastern  imagina- 
tion, strive  though  he  might  to  conceal  the  fact. 
The  splendour  of  the  exotic  display  exercised  an. 
irresistible  attraction  upon  him;  the  glass-cases  of 


86     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

jewellery  also  fascinated  his  gaze,  although  he  him- 
self, doubtless  without  realising  it,  was  a  perambu- 
lating shop-window  which  any  jeweller  might  have 
longed  to  possess.  On  his  long  Persian  tunic  with 
its  red  edges  and  ample  skirts  creased  with  folds  he 
wore  a  regular  display  of  precious  stones  and  one 
did  not  know  which  to  admire  the  most,  the  gleam- 
ing sapphires  that  adorned  his  shoulder-straps,  the 
splendid  emeralds,  the  exquisite  turquoises  that 
studded  the  baldrick  and  the  gold  scabbard  of  his 
sword,  the  four  enormous  rubies  that  took  the  place 
of  the  buttons  of  his  uniform,  or  the  dazzling  and 
formidable  diamond,  the  famous  Daria-Nour,  the 
Sea  of  Light,  fastened  on  to  his  Khola,  the  tradi- 
tional head-dress,  whence  jutted  like  a  fountain  of 
light  a  quivering  aigrette  in  brilliants.  Thus 
decked  out,  Muzaffr-ed-Din  was  valued  at  thirty- 
four  million  francs  net;  and  even  then  he  was  far 
from  carrying  the  whole  of  his  fortune  upon  his 
person:  I  have  in  fact  been  assured  that,  in  the 
depths  of  the  iron  trunk  of  which  four  vigilant 
Persians  had  the  keeping,  there  slumbered  an  equal 
number  of  precious  stones,  no  less  fine  than  the 
others  and  content  to  undergo  the  rigour  of  a 
temporary  disgrace.  At  all  events,  in  the  guise 
in  which  he  showed  himself  in  public,  he  was  enough 
to  excite  the  admiring  curiosity  of  the  crowds. 
In  his  solemn  walks  through  the  various  sections 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  87 

of  the  exhibition,  where  my  modest  frock-coat 
looked  drab  and  out  of  place  among  the  glittering 
uniforms,  he  was  attended  by  the  grand  vizier,  the 
only  dignitary  entitled,  by  the  etiquette  of  the  Per- 
sian court,  to  carry  a  cane  in  the  presence  of  his 
sovereign,  who  himself  always  leant  upon  a  stick 
made  of  some  precious  wood.  He  was  invariably 
followed  by  a  grave  and  attentive  Persian  carrying 
a  hand-bag.  This  person  puzzled  me  at  first.  His 
fellow-countrymen  treated  him  with  respect  and 
addressed  him  in  deferential  tones.  I  had  con- 
cluded from  this  that  he  filled  some  lofty  function 
or  other  and  felt  the  more  justified  in  so  thinking 
as  the  Shah  from  time  to  time  made  him  a  little 
sign,  whereupon,  promptly,  all  three — the  Shah,  the 
Persian  and  the  hand-bag — disappeared  for  a  few 
moments  into  a  dark  corner.  However,  I  soon 
learnt  that  these  mysterious  meetings  had  no  po- 
litical significance:  the  Persian  was  merely  a 
confidential  body-servant;  as  for  the  hand-bag,  it 
held  simply  the  most  homely  and  the  most  intimate 
of  all  the  world's  utensils  and  the  Shah  was  fre- 
quently obliged  to  have  recourse  to  it.  This  little 
drawback,  however,  did  not  damp  his  eagerness  to 
know,  to  see  and  to  buy  things.  He  bought  every- 
thing indifferently:  musical  instruments,  old  tapes- 
tries, a  set  of  table-cutlery,  a  panorama,  a  "new- 
art"  ring,  a  case  of  pistols.  He  looked,  touched, 


88     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

weighed  the  thing  in  his  hand  and  then,  raising  his 
forefinger,  said,  "Je  prends"  while  the  delighted 
exhibitor,  greatly  touched  and  impressed,  took  down 
the  order  and  the  address. 

Nevertheless,  Muzaff r-ed-Din  was  not  so  rich  as 
one  would  be  inclined  to  think.  Each  time,  in  fact, 
that  he  came  to  Europe,  where  he  spent  fabulous 
sums,  he  procured  the  money  needed  for  his  jour- 
ney, not  only  by  raising  a  loan,  generally  in  Russia, 
but  also  by  a  method  which  was  both  ingenious  and 
businesslike.  Before  leaving  his  possessions,  he 
summoned  his  chief  officers  of  State — ministers, 
provincial  governors  and  the  like — and  proposed 
the  following  bargain  to  them :  those  who  wished  to 
form  part  of  his  suite  must  first  pay  him  a  sum 
of  money  which  he  valued  in  accordance  with  the 
importance  of  their  functions.  It  varied  between 
50,000  and  300,000  francs.  In  return,  he  author- 
ised them  to  recoup  themselves  for  this  advance  in 
any  way  they  pleased.  Here  we  find  the  explana- 
tion of  the  large  number  of  persons  who  accom- 
panied the  Shah  on  his  travels  and  the  quaint  and 
unexpected  titles  which  they  bore,  such  as  that  of 
"minister  of  the  dock-yard,"  though  Persia  has 
never  owned  a  navy,  and  one  still  more  extraor- 
dinary, that  of  "attorney  to  the  heir  apparent." 
Although  they  sometimes  had  romantic  souls,  they 
invariably  had  terribly  practical  minds.  Eager 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  89 

to  recover  as  quickly  as  possible  the  outlay  to 
which  their  ambition  to  behold  the  West  had  in- 
duced them  to  consent,  they  practised  on  a  huge 
scale  and  without  scruple  or  hesitation  what  I  may 
describe  as  the  bonus  or  commission  system.  Not- 
withstanding my  long  experience  of  human  frail- 
ties, I  confess  that  this  proceeding,  cynically  raised 
by  these  gentlemen  to  the  level  of  an  institution, 
upset  all  my  notions,  while  it  explained  how  the 
Shah  was  able  to  spend  eight  to  twelve  million 
francs  in  pocket-money  on  each  of  his  trips  to 
France. 

As  soon  as  the  people  about  him  knew  what  shops 
His  Majesty  proposed  to  visit  in  the  course  of  his 
daily  drive,  a  bevy  of  courtiers  would  swoop  down 
upon  the  awestruck  tradesman  and  imperiously  in- 
sist upon  his  promising  them  a  big  commission,  in 
exchange  for  which  they  undertook  to  prevail  upon 
His  Majesty  graciously  to  honour  the  establish- 
ment with  his  custom.  The  shopkeeper  as  a  rule 
raised  no  objection:  he  was  quite  content  to  increase 
the  price  in  proportion;  and,  when  the  good  Shah, 
accompanied  by  his  vizier  and  the  famous  hand- 
bag, presented  himself  a  few  hours  later  in  the  shop, 
his  suite  praised  the  goods  of  the  house  so  heartily 
that  he  never  failed  to  let  fall  the  traditional  phrase, 
ffJe  prends"  so  as  to  give  no  one  even  the  slightest 
pain.  Nor,  for  that  matter,  did  any  of  those  who 


90     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

surrounded  him  dream  of  making  a  secret  of  the 
traffic  in  which  he  indulged  behind  his  sovereign's 
'back :  it  was  a  right  duly  acquired  and  paid  for. 

I  am  bound  to  say,  however,  that  the  grand 
vizier — no  doubt  because  he  was  already  too  well- 
off — appeared  to  be  above  these  sordid  and  venial 
considerations.  This  important  personage,  whose 
name  on  that  occasion  was  His  Highness  the 
Sadrazani  Mirza  Ali  Asghar  Khan  Emin  es  Sultan, 
combined  an  acute  understanding  with  a  superior 
cast  of  mind;  the  Shah  showed  him  a  very  note- 
worthy affection  and  treated  him  as  a  friend. 
These  marks  of  special  kindness  were  due  to  curious 
causes,  which  an  amiable  Persian  was  good  enough 
to  reveal  to  me.  It  appears  that,  when  the  late 
Shah  Nasr-ed-Din  was  shot  dead  at  the  mosque 
where  he  was  making  a  pilgrimage,  the  grand 
vizier  of  the  time,  who  was  none  other  than  this 
same  Mirza  Ali  Asghar  Khan,  pretended  that  the 
Shah's  wound  was  not  serious,  had  the  corpse 
seated  in  the  carriage  and  drove  back  to  the  palace 
beside  it,  acting  as  if  he  were  talking  to  his 
sovereign,  fanning  him  and  asking  occasionally  for 
water  to  quench  his  thirst,  as  though  he  were  still 
alive. 

The  death  was  not  acknowledged  till  some  days 
later.  In  this  way,  the  vizier  gave  the  heir-appar- 
ent, the  present  Shah,  time  to  return  from  Tanris 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  91 

and  avoided  the  grave  troubles  that  would  certainly 
have  arisen  had  the  truth  been  known.  Muzaffr- 
ed-Din  owned  his  crown  and  perhaps  his  life  to  his 
grand  vizier;  small  wonder  that  he  showed  him 
some  gratitude. 

His  court  minister,  Mohamed  Khan,  could  also 
have  laid  claim  to  this  gratitude,  for  he  gave  proof 
of  remarkable  presence  of  mind  at  the  time  of  the 
attempted  assassination  of  which  Muzaffr-ed-Din 
was  the  object  during  his  stay  in  Paris  in  1900. 

The  incident  is  perhaps  still  in  the  reader's  rec- 
ollection. The  Shah,  with  the  court  minister  by  his 
side  and  General  Parent,  the  chief  French  officer 
attached  to  his  person,  seated  facing  him,  had  just 
left  the  Sovereign's  Palace  to  drive  to  the  exhibi- 
tion, when  a  man  sprang  on  the  step  of  the  open 
landau,  produced  a  revolver  and  took  aim  at  the 
monarch's  chest.  Before  he  had  time,  however,  to 
pull  the  trigger,  a  hand  of  iron  fell  upon  his  wrist 
and  clutched  it  with  such  force  that  the  man  was 
compelled  to  let  go  his  revolver,  which  fell  at  the 
feet  of  the  sovereign,  while  the  would-be  murderer 
was  arrested  by  the  police.  Mohamed  Khan,  by 
this  opportune  and  energetic  interference,  had  pre- 
vented a  shot  the  consequences  of  which  would 
have  been  disastrous  for  the  Shah  and  very  an- 
noying for  the  French  government,  all  the  more  so 
inasmuch  as  the  author  of  this  attempt  was  a 


9S     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

French  subject,  a  sort  of  fanatic  from  the  South, 
to  whom  the  recent  assassination  of  King  Humbert 
of  Italy  had  suggested  this  fantastic  plan  of  mak- 
ing away  with  the  unoffending  Muzaffr-ed-Din. 
Here  is  a  curious  detail:  I  had  received  that  very 
morning  an  anonymous  letter,  dated  from  Naples, 
but  posted  in  Paris,  in  which  the  sovereign  was 
warned  that  an  attempt  would  be  made  on  his  life. 
Although  this  kind  of  communication  was  frequent, 
I  had  ordered  the  supervision  to  be  redoubled  in- 
side the  palace ;  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  did  not  much 
fear  a  surprise  outside,  as  the  Shah  never  drove  out 
but  his  carriage  was  surrounded  by  a  detachment 
of  cavalry.  Now  ill-luck  would  have  it  that  he 
took  it  into  his  head  to  go  out  that  day  before  the 
time  which  he  himself  had  fixed  and  without  wait- 
ing for  the  arrival  of  the  escort :  I  have  shown  the  re- 
sult. 

During  the  whole  of  this  tragic  scene,  which  lasted 
only  a  few  seconds,  he  did  not  utter  a  single  word; 
the  pallor  which  had  overspread  his  cheeks  alone 
betrayed  the  emotion  which  he  had  felt.  Neverthe- 
less, he  ordered  the  coachman  to  drive  on.  When, 
at  last,  they  reached  the  Champs  Elysees  and  he 
perceived  numerous  groups  waiting  to  cheer  him, 
he  emerged  from  his  stupor: 

"Is  it  going  to  begin  again?"  he  cried,  in  accents 
of  terror. 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  93 

3. 

He  was  given,  in  fact,  to  easy  and  strange  fits  of 
alarm.  He  always  carried  a  loaded  pistol  in  his 
trowsers-pocket,  though  he  never  used  it.  On  one 
of  his  journeys  in  France,  he  even  took  it  into  his 
head  to  make  a  high  court-official  walk  before  him 
when  he  left  the  theatre,  carrying  a  revolver  pointed 
at  the  peaceable  sightseers  who  had  gathered  to 
see  him  come  out.  As  soon  as  I  saw  this,  I  ran 
up  to  the  threatening  body-guard: 

"Put  that  revolver  away,"  I  said.  "It's  not  the 
custom  here." 

But  I  had  to  insist  pretty  roughly  before  he  con- 
sented to  put  away  his  weapon. 

The  Shah,  for  that  matter,  was  no  less  distrust- 
full  of  his  own  subjects;  in  fact,  I  observed  that, 
when  the  Persians  were  in  his  presence,  they 
adopted  a  uniform  attitude  which  consisted  in  hold- 
ing their  hands  crossed  on  their  stomach,  no  doubt 
as  evidence  of  their  harmless  intentions.  It  was  a 
guarantee  of  a  very  casual  sort,  we  must  admit. 

For  the  rest,  his  "alarms"  displayed  themselves 
under  the  most  diverse  aspects  and  in  the  most  un- 
expected circumstances.  For  instance,  there  was 
no  persuading  him  ever  to  ascend  the  Eiffel  Tower. 
The  disappointment  of  his  guides  was  increased  by 
the  fact  that  he  would  come  as  far  as  the  foot  of 


94     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

the  pillars;  they  always  thought  that  he  meant  to 
go  up.  But  no:  once  below  the  immense  iron 
framework,  he  gazed  up  in  the  air,  examined  the 
lifts,  flung  a  timid  glance  at  the  staircases,  then 
suddenly  turned  on  his  heels  and  walked  away. 
They  told  him  in  vain  that  his  august  father  had 
gone  up  as  far  as  the  first  floor;  nothing  could  in- 
duce him  to  do  as  much. 

I  again  remember  a  day — it  was  at  the  time  of  his 
second  stay  in  Paris — when,  on  entering  his  draw- 
ing-room, I  found  him  wearing  a  very  careworn 
air. 

"Paoli,"  he  said,  taking  my  hand  and  leading  me 
to  the  window,  "look!" 

Look  as  I  might,  I  saw  nothing  out  of  the  way. 
Down  below,  three  bricklayers  stood  on  the  pave- 
ment, talking  quietly  together. 

"What!"  said  the  Shah.  "Don't  you  see  those 
men  standing  still,  down  there.  They  have  been 
there  for  an  hour,  talking  and  watching  my 
window.  Paoli,  they  want  to  kill  me." 

Repressing  a  terrible  wish  to  laugh,  I  resolved 
to  reassure  our  guest  with  a  lie : 

"Why,  I  know  them!"  I  replied.  "I  know  their 
names:  they  are  decent  working-men." 

Muzaffr-ed-Din's  face  lit  up  at  once: 

"You  seem  to  know  everybody,"  he  said,  giving 
me  a  grateful  look. 


THE    SHAH    OF    PERSIA 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  95 

The  most  amusing  incident  was  that  which  hap- 
pened on  the  occasion  of  an  experiment  with 
radium.  I  had  described  to  the  sovereign,  in  the 
course  of  conversation,  the  wonderful  discovery 
which  our  great  savant,  M.  Currie,  had  just  made, 
a  discovery  that  was  called  upon  to  revolutionise 
science.  The  Shah  was  extremely  interested  by 
my  story  and  repeatedly  expressed  a  desire  to  be 
shown  the  precious  magic  stone.  Professor  Currie 
was  informed  accordingly,  and,  in  spite  of  his  stress 
of  work,  agreed  to  come  to  the  Elysee  Palace  Hotel 
and  give  an  exhibition.  As,  however,  complete 
darkness  was  needed  for  radium  to  be  admired  in 
all  its  brilliancy,  I  had  with  endless  trouble  per- 
suaded the  King  of  Kings  to  come  down  to  one  of 
the  hotel  cellars  arranged  for  the  purpose.  At  the 
appointed  time,  His  Majesty  and  all  his  suite  pro- 
ceeded to  the  underground  apartment  in  question. 
Professor  Currie  closed  the  door,  switched  off  the 
electric  light  and  uncovered  his  specimen  of  radium, 
when,  suddenly,  a  shout  of  terror,  resembling  at  one 
and  the  same  time  the  roar  of  a  bull  and  the  yells 
of  a  man  who  is  being  murdered,  rang  out,  followed 
by  hundreds  of  similar  cries.  Amid  general  ex- 
citement and  consternation,  we  flung  ourselves  upon 
the  electric  switches,  turned  on  the  lights  and  be- 
held a  strange  sight:  in  the  midst  of  the  prostrate 
Persians  stood  the  Shah,  his  arms  clinging  to  the 


96     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

neck  of  his  howling  grand  vizier,  his  round  pupils 
dilated  to  their  rims,  while  he  shouted  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  in  Persian : 

"Come  away!    Come  away!" 

The  switching  on  of  the  light  calmed  this  mad 
anguish  as  though  by  magic.  Realising  the  disap- 
pointment which  he  had  caused  M.  Currie,  he  tried 
to  offer  him  a  decoration  by  way  of  compensation; 
but  the  austere  man  of  science  thought  right  to  de- 
cline it. 

The  instinctive  dread  of  darkness  and  solitude 
was  so  keen  in  the  Persian  monarch  that  he  re- 
quired his  bed-room  to  be  filled  during  the  night 
with  light  and  sound.  Accordingly,  every  even- 
ing, as  soon  as  he  had  lain  down  and  closed  his  eyes, 
the  members  of  his  suite  gathered  round  his  bed,  lit 
all  the  candelabra  and  exchanged  their  impressions 
aloud,  while  young  nobles  of  the  court,  relieving 
one  another  in  pairs,  conscientiously  patted  his 
arms  and  legs  with  little  light,  sharp,  regular  taps. 
The  King  of  Kings  imagined  that  he  was  in  this 
way  keeping  death  at  a  distance,  if  perchance  it 
should  take  a  fancy  to  visit  him  in  his  sleep,  and 
the  extraordinary  thing  is  that  he  did  sleep,  not- 
withstanding all  this  massage,  light  and  noise. 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  97 

4. 

The  need  which  he  felt  of  having  people  con- 
stantly around  him  and  of  reproducing  the  atmos- 
phere of  his  distant  country  wherever  he  fixed  his 
temporary  residence  was  reflected  in  the  pictur- 
esque and  singularly  animated  aspect  which  the 
hotel  or  palace  at  which  he  elected  to  stay  assumed 
soon  after  his  installation.  It  was  promptly  trans- 
formed into  a  vast,  exotic  caravanserai,  presenting 
the  appearance  of  a  French  fair  combined  with  that 
of  an  eastern  bazaar.  The  house  was  taken  pos- 
session of  by  its  new  occupants  from  the  kitchens, 
ruled  over  by  the  Persian  master-cook  who  pre- 
pared the  monarch's  dishes,  to  the  attics,  where  the 
inferior  servants  were  accommodated.  One  saw 
nothing  but  figures  in  dark  tunics  and  astrakhan 
caps,  squatting  in  the  passages,  leaning  over  the 
staircases ;  along  the  corridors  and  in  the  halls,  the 
shopkeepers  had  improvised  stalls  as  at  Teheran, 
in  the  hope  that  the  monarch  would  let  fall  from 
his  august  lips  in  passing  the  ffJe  prends"  that 
promised  wealth.  In  the  uncouth  crowd  which  the 
desire  of  provoking  and  hearing  that  blessed  phrase 
attracted  to  the  waiting-rooms  of  the  hotel,  all  the 
professions  rubbed  shoulders  promiscuously;  curi- 
osity-dealers, unsuccessful  inventors,  collectors  of 
autographs  and  postage-stamps,  ruined  financiers, 


98     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

charlatans,  unknown  artists,  women  of  doubtful 
character. 

Their  numbers  had  increased  so  greatly,  on  the 
faith  of  the  legend  that  the  Shah's  treasures  were 
inexhaustible,  that  a  radical  step  had  to  be  taken: 
when  Muzaffr-ed-Din  returned  to  Paris  in  1902 
and  1905,  the  applicants  for  favours  were  forbidden 
to  resume  their  little  manoeuvre.  Thereupon 
they  changed  their  tactics:  they  sat  down  and 
wrote. 

I  have  kept  these  letters,  which  the  Shah  never 
read  and  which  his  secretary  handed  me  regularly, 
without  having  read  them  either.  They  arrived  by 
each  post  in  shoals.  One  could  easily  make  a 
volume  of  them  which  would  provide  psychologists 
with  a  very  curious  study  of  the  human  soul  and 
mind.  Among  those  poor  letters  are  many  ob- 
scure, touching,  comic,  candid  and  cynical  speci- 
mens; some  also  are  absurd;  others  imprudent  or 
sad.  Most  of  them  are  signed;  and  among  the 
signatures  of  these  requests  for  assistance  are 
names  which  one  is  surprised  to  find  there.  I  must 
be  permitted  to  suppress  these  names  and  to  limit 
myself,  in  this  mad  orgie  of  epistolary  literature,  to 
reproducing  the  most  typical  of  the  letters  that  fell 
under  my  eyes. 

First,  a  few  specimens  of  "the  comic  note:" 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  99 

"To  His  Majesty,  Muzaffr-ed-Din,  Shah  of  Persia. 
"Your  Majesty, — 

"Knowing  that  you  look  kindly  upon  French  requests, 
I  venture  to  address  these  few  lines  to  you.  I  am  expect- 
ing my  sister,  Mile.  Crampel,  who  has  a  situation  in  Rus- 
sia; as  she  is  ill,  I  would  like  her  to  remain  in  France. 
For  us  to  live  together,  I  should  have  to  start  a  business 
with  a  capital  of  3  to  5,000  francs,  which  I  do  not  possess 
and  which  I  cannot  possibly  find.  I  am  58  years  of  age. 

"In  the  hope  that  you  will  lend  a  favourable  ear  to  my 
request,  I  am 

"Your  Majesty's  most  humble  servant, 

"MADAME  M. 

"P.  S. — In  gratitude,  with  Your  Majesty's  permission, 
I  would  place  a  sign  representing  Your  Majesty  over  the 
shop-front." 

"Sire,—, 

"The  feeling  that  prompts  me  to  write  to  you,  O  noble 
King,  is  the  love  which  I  feel  for  your  country.  I  will 
come  straight  to  the  point:  I  will  ask  you,  O  Majesty, 
if  I,  a  plain  French  subject,  may  have  a  post  of  some  kind 
in  your  ideal  kingdom. 

"Dentist  I  am;  a  dentist  I  would  remain,  in  Your  Maj- 
esty's service.  All  my  life  long,  you  would  be  assured  of 
my  complete  devotion. 

"A  future  Persian  dentist  to  his  future  King. 

"P.  J.  L. 

"Pray,  Sire,  address  the  reply  to  the  paste  restante  at 
Post-office  No.  54." 


100     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"Great  Shah  — 

"This  missive  which  I  have  the  honour  of  addressing  to 
Your  Majesty  is  to  tell  you  that  I  and  my  friends,  Mes- 
sieurs Jules  Brunei  and  Abel  Chenet,  have  the  honour  of 
offering  you  four  bottles  of  champagne  and  two  bottles  of 
claret. 

"In  exchange,  may  we  beg  for  the  Order  of  the  Lion 
and  Sun,  which  it  would  give  us  great  pleasure  to  receive 
and  which  we  hope  that  Your  Majesty  will  confer  upon 
us?  We  are  French  citizens  and  old  soldiers. 

"We  wish  you  constant  good  health  and  prosperity  for 
your  country,  Persia.  You  can  send  your  servant  to  fetch 
the  bottles. 

"We  have  the  honour  to  greet  you  and  we  remain  your 
very  humble  servants,  crying : 

"  'Long  live  H.  M.  Muzaffr-ed-Din  and  long  live  Persia !' 

"A.  W." 

**THORIGNY  (ON  MY  WAY  HOME), 

"27  August,  1902. 
"Your  Majesty,— - 

"Yesterday,  Tuesday,  I  was  in  Paris,  waiting  to  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  leave  your  hotel.  That  pleas- 
ure was  not  vouchsafed  me. 

"But,  on  the  other  hand,  a  ring  set  with  a  diamond, 
which  I  was  taking  to  be  repaired,  was  stolen  from  me  by 
a  pickpocket. 

"This  ring  was  the  only  diamond  which  my  wife  pos- 
sessed. In  consequence  of  the  theft,  she  now  possesses 
none. 

*1  put  myself  the  question  whether  I  could  not  indict 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  101 

you  before  a  French  court,  as  being  the  direct  cause  of 
the  theft. 

"I  find  nothing  in  our  French  law-books  likely  to  decide 
in  my  favour. 

"And  so  I  prefer  to  come  and  beseech  you  to  redress 
the  involuntary  injury  which  you  have  done  me. 

"A  choice  stone,  which  I  could  have  set  as  a  ring,  would 
make  good  all  the  damage  which  I  have  suffered. 

"I  am  well  aware  that  you  must  have  numerous  and 
various  requests  for  assistance.  This  is  not  one  of  them. 

"But  I  should  be  infinitely  grateful  to  you  if  you  would 
understand  that,  but  for  your  coming  to  Paris,  I  should 
not  have  been  robbed  and  if  you  would  kindly  send  me  a 
choice  stone  to  replace  the  one  stolen  from  me. 

"Will  Your  Majesty  praVj  receive  the  homage  of  my 
most  profound  respect. 

"G.  P. 

"A  ttorney-at-law, 
"BAEBEZIEUX  (Gironde),  France." 

"To  His  Majesty, — 

"Muzaffr-ed-Din,  Shah  of  Persia, 

"At  the  Ely  see  Palace  Hotel,  Paris. 
"I  eagerly  congratulate  His  Majesty  on  the  great 
honour  which  he  has  paid  the  French  people  by  making  a 
long  stay  in  the  great  international  city.  And  I  take  ad- 
vantage of  this  occasion  to  beg  His  Majesty  to  initiate  a 
general  convocation  of  all  the  sovereigns  of  the  whole  world 
for  next  month,  in  order  to  open  a  subscription  for  the 
construction  of  an  unprecedented  fairy  palace  (new  style 
and  taking  something  from  planetary  nature  and  its  mar- 


102     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

vels),  to  be  known  as  the  Sovereign  Palace  of  the  Univer- 
sal Social  Congress,  symbolising  the  whole  universe  by 
States,  containing  the  apartments  of  every  sovereign  in 
the  world  and  situated  near  the  Bois  de  Boulogne. 

"I  consider  that  His  Majesty  would  thus  have  a  good 
opportunity  of  securing  a  great  page  in  history. 

"Hoping  for  a  just  appreciation  and  entire  success,  I 
send  His  Majesty,  the  Shah  of  Persia,  the  assurance  of  my 
greatest  respect,  together  with  my  perfect  consideration, 
and  I  am, 

"The  most  humble  Architect-general  of  the  Universal 
Confederation  of  Social  Peace, 

"At  His  Majesty's  service, 

«C.  M." 

Now  comes  the  touching  note : 

"A  little  provincial  work-girl,  who  has  not  the  honour  of 
being  known  to  His  Majesty,  kneels  down  before  him  and, 
with  her  hands  folded  together,  entreats  him  to  make  her 
a  present  of  a  sum  of  1,200  francs,  which  would  enable 
her  to  marry  the  young  man  she  loves.  .  .  .  Oh, 
what  blessings  he  would  receive  day  by  day  for  that  kind 
action ! 

"I  beg  the  Shah  to  forgive  me  for  the  offences  of  this 
letter  against  etiquette,  with  which  I  am  not  acquainted. 
I  kiss  His  Majesty's  hands  and  I  am 

"His  most  humble  and  obedient  little  servant, 

"A.  C." 

Lastly,  is  not  the  following  letter  an  exquisitely 
candid  specimen  of  the  proper  art  of  "sponging"? 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  103 

"Your  Majesty, — 

"As  you  are  a  friend  of  France,  I  propose  to  write  to 
you  as  a  friend ;  you  will  permit  me  to  do  so,  I  hope. 

"The  question  is  this:  I  have  the  greatest  longing  to 
set  eyes  on  the  sea;  my  husband  has  a  few  days'  holiday 
in  the  course  of  October ;  I  should  like  to  make  the  most  of 
it  and  to  go  away  for  a  little  while. 

"Our  means  are  very  small  indeed;  my  husband  has 
only  105  francs  a  month;  and  I  could  not  do  what  I  wish 
without  encroaching  on  my  housekeeping  money,  which  is 
calculated  down  to  the  last  centime. 

"I  therefore  remembered  your  generosity  and  thought 
that  you  might  be  touched  by  my  request. 

"You  would  not  like  a  little  Paris  woman  to  be  pre- 
vented from  enjoying  the  sight  of  the  sea  which  you  have 
doubtless  often  admired. 

"You  are  very  fond  of  travelling;  you  will  understand 
my  curiosity. 

"Will  Your  Majesty  deign  to  accept  the  expression  of 
my  most  respectful  and  distinguished  sentiments? 

"MME.  A.  A." 

A  worthy  woman  sent  this  rich  note: 

"To  His  Majesty,  the  King  of  Persia, — 

"My  name  is  the  Widow  Bressoy,  aged  82.  I  have  lost 
my  husband  and  two  of  my  daughters;  I  am  unable  to 
walk  and  I  owe  a  quarter's  rent.  My  grandmother 
washed  for  His  Majesty  King  Louis-Philippe  of  France; 
H.  R.  H.  the  Due  d'  Aumale  used  to  help  me  with  my 
rent ;  show  your  kind  heart  and  do  as  he  did.  Should  you 


104     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

come  to  the  church  of  Ste.  Elisabeth  du  Temple  on  Sunday 
next,  I  should  be  very  glad  to  see  you. 
"lam 

"Your  Majesty's  most  respectful  servant, 

"WIDOW  BRESSOY." 

The  following  original  proposal  came  from  a 
well-known  business-house: 

"Sir,— 

"After  the  Monza  crime  and  the  attempt  of  which  you 
were  the  object  yesterday  and  in  view  of  the  solemnities 
during  which  you  might  be  too  much  exposed  to  danger,  I 
consider  it  my  duty  to  bring  to  your  notice  certain  par- 
ticulars which  might  be  of  the  greatest  use  to  you  and 
those  about  your  person. 

"I  refer  to  secret  waistcoats  of  my  own  manufacture 
which  I  am  able  to  offer  to  you  and  which  are  absolutely 
warranted. 

"The  waistcoat  which  I  am  offering  is  proof  against  a 
revolver-bullet  and,  of  course,  against  a  sword  or  dagger. 

"As  an  absolute  guarantee,  I  can  assure  you  as  follows 
by  experiment:  the  fabric  consists  of  a  very  close  and 
solidly-riveted  coat  of  steel  mail;  the  shape  of  the  links 
has  been  specially  studied  so  as  to  allow  of  great  supple- 
ness, while  preserving  the  greatest  solidity. 

"It  resists  the  12  mm.  bullet  of  the  regulation  revolver, 
1874  pattern. 

"I  have  specimens  at  which  bullets  were  fired  at  a  dis- 
tance of  4  yards;  they  give  an  exact  idea  of  the  resisting 
power. 

"The  coat  of  mail  is  lined  with  silk  or  satin,  which 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  105 

gives  the  appearance  of  an  ordinary  garment  and  does 
not  for  a  moment  suggest  its  special  object. 

"The  waistcoat  covers  and  protects  the  back,  the  chest, 
the  stomach  and  is  continued  down  the  abdomen. 

"I  must  add  that  the  waistcoat  is  very  easy  to  wear  and 
in  no  way  inconvenient,  on  condition  that  I  am  supplied 
with  the  necessary  measurements  or,  better  still,  with  an 
ordinary  day-waistcoat  of  the  wearer's,  fitted  to  his  size. 

"Hoping  in  the  circumstances  to  be  of  some  use  to  you, 
I  beg  Your  Majesty  to  accept  the  expression  of  my  most 
profound  respect.  ]  R.  G." 

Let  us  pass  to  the  children.  Less  unreasonable 
than  their  parents,  they  content  themselves  with 
asking  for  postage-stamps,  bicycles  or  autographs. 

First  comes  a  public  schoolboy,  quite  proud  of 
incidentally  showing  that  he  knows  his  classics: 


"When  you  first  set  foot  on  French  soil,  you  were 
pleased  to  take  notice,  at  Maubeuge  railway-station,  of  a 
young  public  schoolboy,  who,  not  knowing  your  quality, 
was  only  able  to  give  you  a  very  respectful  greeting. 
That  young  schoolboy  was  myself. 

"I  realised  the  extent  of  the  signal  honour  which  Your 
Majesty  did  me  when  I  learnt  that  I  had  received  it  from 
the  sovereign  of  Persia,  the  country  of  Xerxes  and  Darius, 
the  land  whose  children  have  filled  the  world  with  the  fame 
of  their  exploits.  And,  descending  the  course  of  the  ages, 
reverting  to  the  lessons  of  my  masters,  I  hailed  in  you 
'the  wise  and  enlightened  monarch  whose  reign  opens  out 
so  many  hopes.' 


106     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"Sire,  I  shall  never  forget  that  moment,  which  will 
probably  be  the  only  one  of  its  kind  in  my  life;  but,  if  I 
were  permitted  to  express  a  desire,  I  would  humbly  confess 
to  Your  Majesty  that  my  greatest  happiness  would  be  to 
possess  a  collection  of  Persian  postage-stamps,  as  an  offi- 
cial token  of  the  honour  which  you  condescended  to  do  me. 
"Deign,  Sire,  etc. 

"R.  W. 

"Pupil  at  The  Lycee  Faidherbe,  Lille 
"(on  my  holidays)." 

The  next  has  not  yet  learnt  the  beauties  of  liter- 
ary style ;  he  has  less  notions  of  form ;  but  his  ambi- 
tion is  more  far-reaching: 

"Your  Majesty, — 

"I  begin  by  begging  your  pardon  for  my  presumption ; 
but  I  have  heard  everybody  say  and  I  read  in  the  paper 
that  Your  Majesty  is  greatly  interested  in  motor-cars.  I 
therefore  thought  that  you  must  also  have  ridden  the  bicy- 
cle, which  you  now,  no  doubt,  care  less  for;  and  it  oc- 
curred to  me  that,  if  you  happened  to  have  an  old  one 
put  by,  Your  Majesty  might  do  me  the  honour  to  give  it 
to  me. 

"Papa  and  my  big  brother  Jean  go  out  riding  on  their 
bicycles  and  I  am  left  at  home  with  mamma,  because  I 
have  not  a  machine  and  they  cannot  afford  to  buy  me  one. 

"I  should  be  so  proud  to  have  a  bicycle,  given  me  by 
Your  Majesty. 

"I  shall  not  tell  papa  that  I  am  writing  to  Your  Maj- 
esty, because  he  would  laugh  at  me,  and  I  shall  take  three 
sous  from  my  purse  for  the  stamp  on  this  letter. 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  107 

"I  pray  God  not  to  let  those  wicked  anarchists  attack 
Your  Majesty,  to  whom  I  offer  my  profound  respect. 

"MAURICE  LELANDAIS, 

"aged  9!/2  years, 

"living  with  his  family,  Faubourg  Bizienne, 
"GuERANDE  (Loire-Inferieure)." 

Another  schoolboy: 

"VERVIERS,  3  September. 
"Great  King  of  Persia  in  France,  Sir, — 

"I  have  read  in  the  paper  that  you  are  very  rich  and 
have  lots  of  gold. 

"My  father  promised  to  give  me  a  gold  watch  for  my 
first  communion  next  year,  if  I  worked  hard  at  school. 

"I  did  study,  Sir,  for  I  was  second  and  the  first  is  thir- 
teen years  old  and  I  am  only  eleven  and  a  half.  To 
prove  it  to  you,  here  is  my  prize-list.  Now,  when  I  ask 
if  I  shall  have  my  watch,  my  father  answers  that  he  has 
no  money  and  he  wants  it  all  for  bread.  It  is  not  right, 
Sir,  to  deceive  me  like  that.  But  I  hope  that  you  will  give 
me  what  they  refuse.  Do  me  that  great  pleasure.  I  will 
pray  for  you. 

"I  love  you  very  much. 

«M.  J." 

Here  is  an  artless  request  from  a  little  English 
girl: 

"Your  Majesty, — 

"I  hear  you  are  taking  a  holiday  in  Paris  and  I  think 
that  this  must  be  the  best  time  to  write  to  you,  for  you 
will  not  be  so  busy  as  in  your  own  kingdom. 


108     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"First  of  all,  I  want  to  tell  you  that  I  am  an  English 
girl,  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  my  name  is  Mary.  I 
love  collecting  autographs  and  so  far  I  have  been  very 
lucky  and  have  got  some  of  celebrities,  but  I  have  none  of 
a  King,  except  Menelik,  who  is  a  black  majesty. 

"Now  I  should  ever  so  much  like  to  have  a  few  lines 
in  your  handwriting. 

"Do  be  so  very  kind  as  to  write  to  me. 

"MARY  ST.  J." 

To  conclude  with,  here  are  a  few  lively  letters 
from  ladies  dark  and  fair: 

"PARIS,  27  July. 
"Sir,— 

"I  won  the  last  beauty-prize  at  Marienbad  and  I  am 
simply  dying  to  make  your  acquaintance. 

"In  this  hope,  I  have  the  honour  to  greet  you. 

"FERNANDE  DE  B." 

"MARSEILLES,  1  August. 
"Sire,— 

"It  is  a  pleasure  to  me  to  write  to  you.  From  my 
childhood's  days,  I  have  admired  Persia,  that  beautiful 
country,  so  dear  to  my  heart.  Since  I  have  heard  you 
mentioned,  I  love  you,  Sire;  I  should  like  to  be  at  your 
service.  I  do  not  know  the  Persian  language,  but,  if  you 
adopt  me,  I  shall  know  it  in  a  few  days  and  you  shall  be 
my  master. 

"Receive,  Sire,  my  sincere  greetings. 

"MlREILLE  . 

"P.  S. — Please  reply.     I  will  start  for  Paris  at  once." 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  109 

"PARIS,  29  July. 
"To  Monsieur  Muzaffr-ed-Din. 
"Monsieur  Le  Chah, — 

"Forgive  me  for  taking  the  liberty  of  writing  to  you. 
I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  yesterday  in  the  Avenue 
du  Bois  de  Boulogne  and  of  receiving  a  wave  of  the  hand 
from  you  and  a  most  gracious  smile. 

"How  I  should  love  to  make  your  acquaintance  and  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  pressing  your  hand ! 

"You  may  be  certain  of  my  entire  discretion.  You  can, 
if  you  do  not  mind,  appoint  whatever  time  and  place  you 
please. 

"I  should  be  very  happy  to  see  you ;  and  I  may  venture 
to  add  that  I  am  a  very  handsome  woman. 
"Believe  me, 

"Monsieur  le  Chah, 

"Yours  most  cordially, 

"MADAME  MARGUERITE  L. 
"P.  S. — I  beg  you  to  destroy  this  letter." 

"To  His  Majesty,  Muzaffr-ed-Din, — • 

"We  should  be  greatly  honoured  if  you  would  do  us  the 
honour  to  come  and  spend  a  few  days  in  the  principality 
of  Monaco. 

"A  group  of  ladies: 

"BLANCHE. 

"JEANNE. 

"ADELE." 

5. 

All  these  efforts  of  the  imagination,  all  these 
prodigies  of  ingenuity,  all  these  amorous  sugges- 


110     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

tions  were  wasted.  As  I  have  said,  the  Shah  took 
no  notice  whatever  of  the  six  hundred  and  odd  beg- 
ging letters  of  different  kinds  addressed  to  him 
during  his  visits  to  France.  Pleasure-loving  and 
capricious,  careful  of  his  own  peace  of  mind,  he 
dreaded  and  avoided  emotions.  Nevertheless,  he 
was  not  insensible  to  pity  nor  indifferent  to  the 
charms  of  the  fair  sex.  At  certain  times,  he  was 
capable  of  sudden  movements  of  magnificent  gener- 
osity: he  would  readily  give  a  diamond  to  some 
humble  workwoman  whom  he  met  on  his  way;  he 
would  of  his  own  accord  hand  a  bank-note  to  a  beg- 
gar; he  freely  distributed  Persian  gold-pieces 
stamped  with  his  effigy. 

He  would  also  fall  a  victim  to  sudden  erotic 
fancies  that  sometimes  caused  me  moments  of  cruel 
embarrassment.  I  remember  that,  one  afternoon, 
when  we  were  driving  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne, 
near  the  lakes,  Muzaffr-ed-Din  noticed  a  view 
which  he  admired,  ordered  the  carriages  to  stop  and 
expressed  a  desire  himself  to  take  some  snapshots 
of  the  charming  spot.  We  at  once  alighted.  A 
little  further,  a  group  of  smart  ladies  sat  chatting 
gaily  without  taking  the  smallest  heed  of  our  pres- 
ence. The  Shah,  seeing  them,  asked  me  to  beg 
them  to  come  closer  so  that  he  might  photograph 
them.  Although  I  did  not  know  them,  I  went  up 


i 

<UJ 

w 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  111 

and  spoke  to  them  and,  with  every  excuse,  ex- 
plained the  sovereign's  whim  to  them.  Greatly 
amused,  they  yielded  to  it  with  a  good  grace.  The 
Shah  took  the  photograph,  smiled  to  the  ladies  and, 
when  the  operation  was  over,  called  me  to  him 
again : 

"Paoli,"  he  said,  "they  are  very  pretty,  very 
nice;  go  and  ask  them  if  they  would  like  to  come 
back  with  me  to  Teheran." 

Imagine  my  face!  I  had  to  employ  all  the  re- 
sources of  my  eloquence  to  make  the  King  of  Kings 
understand  that  you  cannot  take  a  woman  to  Te- 
heran, as  you  would  a  piano;  a  cinematograph  or 
a  motor-car,  and  that  you  cannot  say  of  her,  as  of 
an  article  in  a  shop,  " Je  prends." 

I  doubt  whether  he  really  grasped  the  force  of 
my  arguments,  for,  some  time  after,  when  we  were 
at  the  Opera  in  the  box  of  the  President  of  the  Re- 
public, we  perceived  with  dismay  that  His  Persian 
Majesty,  instead  of  watching  the  performance  on 
the  stage — consisting  of  that  exquisite  ballet  Cop- 
pelia,  with  some  of  our  prettiest  dancers  taking  part 
in  it — kept  his  opera-glass  obstinately  fixed  on  a 
member  of  the  audience  in  the  back  row  of  the 
fourth  tier,  giving  signs  of  manifest  excitement  as 
he  did  so.  I  was  beginning  to  wonder  with  anxiety 
whether  he  had  caught  sight  of  some  "suspicious 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

face,"  when  the  court  minister,  in  whose  ear  he  had 
whispered  a  few  words,  came  over  to  me  and  said, 
with  an  air  of  embarrassment: 

"His  Majesty  feels  a  profound  admiration  for  a 
lady  up  there.  Do  you  see  ?  The  fourth  seat  from 
the  right.  His  Majesty  would  be  obliged  to  you  if 
you  would  enable  him  to  make  her  acquaintance. 
You  can  tell  her,  if  you  like,  as  an  inducement,  that 
my  sovereign  will  invite  her  to  go  back  with  him  to 
Teheran." 

"Again!" 

Although  this  sort  of  errand  did  not  fall  within 
the  scope  of  my  instructions,  I  regarded  the  worthy 
Oriental's  idea  as  so  comical  that  I  asked  one  of  my 
detectives  who,  dressed  to  the  nines,  was  keeping 
guard  outside  the  presidential  box,  whether  he 
would  care  to  go  upstairs  and,  if  possible,  convey 
the  flattering  invitation  to  the  object  of  the  imperial 
flame.  My  Don  Juan  by  proxy  assented  and  set 
out  on  his  mission. 

The  Shah's  impatience  increased  from  moment 
to  moment.  The  last  act  had  begun  when  I  saw 
my  inspector  return  alone  and  looking  very  sheep- 
ish: 

"Well,"  I  asked,  "what  did  she  say?" 

"She  boxed  my  ears." 

The  sovereign,  when  the  grand  vizier  conveyed 
this  grievous  news  to  him,  knitted  his  bushy  eye- 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  113 

brows,  declared  that  he  was  tired,  and  ordered  his 
carriage. 

My  duty  as  a  conscientious  historian  obliges  me, 
however,  to  mention  the  fact  that  Muzaffr-ed-Din 
did  not  always  meet  with  such  piteous  rebuffs  in 
the  field  of  gallantry  upon  which  he  gladly 
ventured.  He  kept  up  a  very  fond  and  regular 
flirtation  in  Paris  with  a  French  favourite,  a  charm- 
ing and  exceedingly  beautiful  person,  who  had 
been  seduced  by  the  bejewelled  opulence  of  the 
King  of  Kings.  She  had  rooms  in  the  monarch's 
hotel  each  time  he  came  to  France;  and  they  re- 
tained a  sort  of  affection  for  each  other  notwith- 
standing the  mutual  disappointment  which  they  had 
experienced:  she,  because  she  thought  that  he  was 
generous ;  he,  because  he  hoped  that  she  was  disin- 
terested. That  she  was  anxious  to  turn  a  great 
man's  friendship  to  account  can,  strictly  speaking, 
be  imagined;  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  incompre- 
hensible that  the  Shah,  who  was  so  easily  moved 
to  generosity  towards  the  first  comer,  should  dis- 
play a  sordid  avarice  towards  the  woman  whom  he 
himself  had  selected  from  among  so  many.  Per- 
haps he  was  ingenuous  enough  to  wish  to  be  loved 
for  his  own  sake.  At  any  rate,  this  continual  mis- 
understanding led  to  intensely  funny  scenes.  The 
young  woman,  exasperated  by  obtaining  nothing 
but  promises  each  time  she  expressed  the  desire  to 


114     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

possess  a  pearl  necklace  or  a  diamond  ring,  ended 
by  resorting  to  heroic  methods :  she  locked  her  door 
when  the  Shah  announced  his  coming.  The  King 
of  Kings  stamped,  threatened,  implored. 

"My  diamonds  first!  My  pearls  first!"  she  re- 
plied, from  behind  the  locked  door. 

In  vain  he  offered  the  worn-out  journey  to  Te- 
heran: it  was  no  good.  Then,  resigning  himself, 
he  sent  for  the  necklace  or  the  ring.  In  this  way, 
she  collected  a  very  handsome  set  of  jewellery. 

Although,  as  I  have  said,  her  rooms  were  next 
to  his  own,  Muzaffr-ed-Din  saw  comparatively  lit- 
tle of  her;  he  had  not  the  time;  his  days  were  too 
full  of  engagements.  Rising  very  early  in  the 
morning,  he  devoted  long  hours  to  his  toilet,  to  his 
prayers  and  to  his  political  conversations  with  the 
grand  vizier.  He  worked  as  little  as  possible,  but 
saw  many  people;  he  liked  giving  audiences  to 
doctors  and  purveyors.  He  always  had  his  meals 
alone,  in  accordance  with  Persian  etiquette,  and 
was  served  at  one  time  with  European  dishes,  which 
were  better  suited  to  his  impaired  digestive  organs, 
and  at  another  with  Persian  fare,  consisting  of 
slices  of  Ispahan  melon,  with  white  and  flavour- 
some  flesh;  of  the  national  dish  called  pilaf  tiobab, 
in  which  meat  cut  up  and  mixed  with  delicate 
spices  lay  spread  on  a  bed  of  rice  just  scalded, 
underdone  and  crisp;  of  hard-boiled  eggs  and 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  115 

young  marrows;  or  else  of  stilo  grill,  represented 
by  scallops  of  mutton  soaked  in  aromatic  vinegar 
and  cooked  over  a  slow  fire  of  pinewood  embers; 
lastly,  of  aubergine  fritters,  of  which  he  was  very 
fond.  I  am  bound,  for  that  matter,  to  say  that 
Persian  cooking,  which  I  had  many  opportunities 
of  tasting,  is  delicious  and  that  the  dishes  which  I 
have  named  would  have  done  honour  to  any  Pari- 
sian bill  of  fare. 

After  rising  from  table,  Muzaffr-ed-Din  gener- 
ally devoted  an  hour  to  taking  a  nap,  after  which 
we  went  out  either  for  a  drive  round  the  Bois  or  to 
go  and  see  the  shops  or  the  Paris  sights.  To  tell 
the  truth,  we  hardly  ever  knew  beforehand  what  the, 
sovereign's  plans  were.  He  seemed  to  take  a  mis- 
chievous delight  in  altering  the  afternoon  pro- 
gramme and  route  which  I  had  worked  out  with  his 
approval  in  the  morning.  Thanks  to  his  whims,  I 
lived  in  a  constant  state  of  alarm. 

"I  want  to  see  some  museums  to-day,"  he 
would  say  at  eleven  o'clock.  "We  will  start  at 
two." 

I  at  once  informed  the  minister  of  fine-arts,  who 
told  off  his  officials  to  receive  him;  I  telephoned  to 
the  military  governor  of  Paris  to  send  an  escort. 

At  three  o'clock,  we  were  still  waiting.  At  last, 
just  about  four,  he  appeared,  with  a  look  of  indif- 
ference and  care  on  his  face,  and  told  me  that  he 


116     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

would  much  prefer  to  go  for  a  drive  in  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne. 

One  day,  after  he  had  spent  the  morning  in 
listening  to  a  chapter  of  the  life  of  Napoleon  I, 
he  beckoned  to  me  on  his  way  to  lunch. 

"M.  Paoli,"  he  said,  "I  want  to  go  to  the  Chateau 
de  Fontainebleau  to-day." 

"Well,  Sir,  you  see." 

"Quick,  quick!" 

There  was  no  arguing  the  matter.  I  rushed  to 
the  telephone,  warned  the  panic-stricken  P.  L.  M. 
Co.,  that  we  must  have  a  special  train  at  all  costs 
and  informed  the  keeper  of  the  palace  and  the 
dumb-foundered  sub-prefect  of  our  imminent  ar- 
rival at  Fontainebleau. 

When  the  Shah,  still  under  the  influence  of  his 
morning's  course  of  reading,  stepped  from  the  car- 
riage, two  hours  later,  before  the  gate  of  the  palace, 
he  was  seized  with  a  strange  freak:  he  demanded 
that  the  dragoons  who  had  formed  his  escort  from 
the  station  should  dismount  and  enter  the  famous 
Cour  des  Adieiix  after  him.  Next  he  made  them 
fall  into  line  in  the  middle  of  the  great  quadrangle, 
leant  against  the  steps,  looked  at  them  long  and 
fondly,  muttered  a  few  sentences  in  Persian  and 
then  disappeared  inside  the  palace. 

Greatly  alarmed,  we  thought  at  first  that  he  had 
gone  mad;  at  last  we  understood:  he  had  been 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  117 

enacting  the  scene  in  which  the  emperor  takes  leave 
of  his  grenadiers.  It  may  have  been  very  flatter- 
ing for  the  dragoons;  I  doubt  if  it  was  quite  so 
flattering  for  Napoleon. 

His  visit  to  the  Louvre  Museum  will  also  linger 
in  my  memory  among  the  amusing  episodes  of  his 
stay  in  Paris.  M.  Leyques,  who  was  at  that  time 
Minister  of  Fine  Arts  and  in  this  capacity  did  the 
honours  of  the  museum  to  the  Shah,  had  resolved 
carefully  to  avoid  showing  our  guest  the  Persian 
room,  fearing  lest  the  King  of  Kings,  who  perhaps 
did  not  grasp  the  importance  of  the  priceless  col- 
lection which  Mme.  Dieulafoy  and  M.  Morgan 
had  brought  back  with  them,  should  show  a  keen 
vexation  at  finding  himself  in  the  presence  of 
jewels  and  mosaics  which  he  might  have  preferred 
to  see  in  his  own  country. 

The  minister,  therefore,  conducted  him  through 
the  picture  and  sculpture-galleries,  trying  to  be- 
fog his  mind  and  tire  his  legs,  so  that  he  might  de- 
clare his  curiosity  satisfied"  as  soon  as  possible. 

Lo  and  behold,  however,  the  Shah  suddenly  said : 

"Take  me  to  the  Persian  room!" 

There  was  no  evading  the  command.  M.  Ley- 
ques, obviously  worried,  whispered  an  order  to  the 
chief  attendant  and  suggested  to  the  Shah  that 
he  should  take  a  short  rest  before  continuing  his  in- 
spection. The  Shah  agreed. 


118     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Meantime,  in  the  Persian  room,  keepers  and  at- 
tendants hurriedly  cleared  away  the  more  valuable 
ornaments  and  mosaics,  so  that  Muzaffr-ed-Din 
should  not  feel  any  too  cruel  regrets;  and  at  last 
the  King  of  Kings,  far  from  revealing  any  disap- 
pointment, declared  himself  delighted  to  find  in 
Paris  so  well-arranged  a  collection  of  curious  re- 
mains of  ancient  Persian  architecture  and  art. 
And  he  added,  slily: 

"When  I  have  a  museum  at  Teheran,  I  shall  see 
that  we  have  a  French  room." 

For  that  matter,  he  was  often  capable  of  admin- 
istering a  sort  of  snub  when  we  thought  that  we 
were  providing  him  with  a  surprise.  For  instance, 
one  day,  when,  with  a  certain  self-conceit,  I  showed 
him  our  three  camels  in  the  Jardin  d'  Acclimata- 
tion: 

"I  own  nine  thousand!"  he  replied,  with  a  scorn- 
ful smile. 

Our  Zoological  gardens  did  not  interest  him;  he 
only  really  enjoyed  himself  there  twice  to  my 
knowledge.  The  first  time  was  when,  at  his  own 
request,  he  was  allowed  to  witness  the  repugnant 
sight  of  a  boa-constrictor  devouring  a  live  rabbit. 
This  produced,  the  next  morning,  the  following 
letter  from  "a  working  milliner,"  which  I  print 
"with  all  faults:" 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  119 

"Monsieur  le  Chah, — ; 

"You  have  been  to  the  Jardin  d*  Aclimatation  (sic) 
and  watched  the  boa-constrictor  eating  a  live  rabbit.  This 
was  very  interesting,  so  you  said.  Ugh!  How  could  the 
King  of  Kings,  an  excellency,  a  majesty,  find  pleasure  in 
the  awful  torments  of  that  poor  rabbit?  I  hate  people 
who  like  going  to  bull-fights.  Cruelty  and  cowardice  go 
hand  in  hand.  Are  you  one  of  the  company,  monsieur  le 
Chah?" 

The  second  time  that  he  seemed  to  amuse  him- 
self was  on  the  occasion  of  a  wedding-dance  that 
was  being  held  in  a  room  next  to  that  in  which  he 
had  stopped  to  take  tea.  On  hearing  the  music,  he 
suddenly  rose  and  opened  the  door  leading  to  the 
ball-room.  The  appearance  of  the  devil  in  person 
would  not  have  produced  a  greater  confusion  than 
that  of  this  potentate  wearing  his  tall  astrakhan 
cap  and  covered  with  diamonds.  But  he,  without 
the  least  uneasiness,  went  the  round  of  the  couples, 
shook  hands  with  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  gave 
them  pieces  of  Persian  gold  money  and  made  his 
excuses  to  the  bride  for  not  having  a  necklace  about 
him  to  offer  her.  I  was  waiting  for  him  to  invite 
her  to  accompany  him  to  Teheran;  the  husband's 
presence  no  doubt  frightened  him. 

He  seldom  left  his  rooms  at  night.  Sometimes 
he  went  to  circus  performances  or  an  extravaganza 
or  musical  play;  he  preferred,  however,  to  devote 


120     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

his  evenings  to  more  domestic  enjoyments;  he  loved 
the  pleasures  of  home  life:  sometimes,  he  played 
with  his  little  sons,  "the  little  Shahs,"  as  they  were 
called,  nice  little  boys  of  seven  to  thirteen;  at  other 
times,  he  indulged  in  his  favourite  games,  chess 
and  billiards.  He  played  with  his  grand  vizier, 
his  minister  of  the  ceremonies  or  myself.  The 
stakes  were  generally  twenty  francs,  sometimes  a 
hundred.  We  did  our  best  to  lose,  for,  if  we  had 
the  bad  luck  to  win,  he  would  show  his  ill-temper 
by  suddenly  throwing  up  the  game  and  retiring  into 
a  corner,  where  his  servants  lit  his  great  Persian 
pipe  for  him,  the  kaljan,  a  sort  of  Turkish  nar- 
ghileh,  filled  with  a  scented  tobacco  called  tombeki. 
Often,  also,  to  console  himself  for  his  mortification 
at  billiards,  he  called  for  music.  I  then  heard  songs 
behind  the  closed  hangings,  harsh,  strange  and  also 
very  sweet  songs,  accompanied  on  the  piano  or  the 
violin;  it  was  a  sort  of  evocation  of  the  East  in  a 
modern  frame;  and  the  contrast,  I  must  say,  was 
rather  pleasing. 

6. 

The  Shah  and  I  grew  accustomed  to  each  other, 
little  by  little,  and  became  the  best  of  friends. 
He  refused  to  go  anywhere  without  me;  I  took 
part  in  the  drives,  in  the  games  at  billiards,  in 
the  concerts,  in  all  the  journeys.  We  went  to 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  121 

Vichy,  to  Vittel,  to  Contrexeville.  It  was  here,  at 
Contrexeville,  where  he  had  come  for  the  cure,  that 
I  saw  him  for  the  last  time.  His  eccentricities,  his 
whims  and  his  diamonds,  had  produced  the  usual 
effect  on  the  peaceful  population  of  the  town. 

A  few  days  after  his  arrival,  hearing  that 
H.  I.  H.  the  grand-duchess  Vladimir  of  Russia  had 
taken  up  her  quarters  at  an  hotel  near  his  own,  he 
hastened  to  call  and  pay  his  respects  and  departed 
from  his  habits  to  the  length  of  inviting  her  to 
luncheon. 

,  On  the  appointed  day,  the  grand-duchess,  alight- 
ing from  her  carriage  before  the  residence  of  her 
host,  found  the  Shah  waiting  for  her  on  the  thresh- 
old in  a  grey  frock-coat  with  a  rose  in  his  button- 
hole. He  ceremoniously  led  her  by  the  hand  to  the 
dining-room,  making  her  walk  through  his  rooms, 
the  floors  of  which  he  had  had  covered  with  the 
wonderful  kachan  carpets  that  accompanied  him  on 
all  his  journeys.  The  princess,  charmed  with  these 
delicate  attentions  on  the  great  man's  part,  was  be- 
ginning to  congratulate  herself  on  the  pleasant  sur- 
prise which  Persian  civilisation  caused  her  when — 
we  had  hardly  sat  down  to  table — a  chamberlain 
went  up  to  the  King  of  Kings,  bowed  low  and 
handed  him  a  gold  salver  on  which  lay  a  queer- 
looking  and  at  first  indescribable  object.  The 
Shah,  without  blinking,  carelessly  put  out  his  hand, 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

took  the  thing  between  his  fingers  and,  with  an  easy 
and  familiar  movement,  inserted  it  in  his  jaw:  it 
was  a  set  of  false  teeth.  Imagine  the  consterna- 
tion 1 

But  it  was  worse  still  when,  about  the  middle  of 
the  meal,  the  sovereign,  suddenly  interrupting  his 
conversation  with  Her  Imperial  Highness,  rose 
without  a  word,  disappeared  and  returned  in  five 
minutes  to  resume  his  place  with  a  smile,  after  the 
court  minister  had  taken  care  to  announce  aloud 
that  "His  Majesty  had  had  to  leave  the 


room." 


The  grand-duchess,  as  may  be  imagined,  retained 
an  unforgettable  memory  of  this  lunch,  the  more  so 
as  the  Shah,  perhaps  in  order  to  wipe  out  any  un- 
pleasant impression  that  might  linger  in  her  mind, 
did  a  very  gallant  thing;  the  next  day,  the  Princess 
Vladimir  received  a  bale  of  Persian  carpets  of  in- 
estimable value,  accompanied  by  a  letter  from  the 
grand  vizier  begging  her,  in  the  name  of  his 
sovereign,  to  accept  this  present,  His  Majesty  hav- 
ing declared  that  he  would  not  allow  other  feet  to 
tread  carpets  on  which  Her  Imperial  Highness's 
had  rested. 

I,  less  fortunate  than  the  grand-duchess,  never, 
alas,  succeeded  in  obtaining  possession  of  the  one 
and  only  carpet  which  Muzaffr-ed-Din  had  deigned 
— quite  spontaneously — to  offer  me. 


THE  SHAH  OF  PERSIA  123 

"My  ministers  will  see  that  you  get  it,"  he  said. 

When  the  day  for  his  departure  for  Persia  drew 
near,  I  thought  that  it  would  be  wise  to  ask  the 
court  minister  for  my  carpet  in  my  most  respectful 
manner. 

"Oh,"  he  replied,  "does  it  belong  to  you?  The 
only  thing  is  that  it  has  been  packed  up,  by  mis- 
take, with  the  others.  If  you  want  it,  they  can 
give  it  to  you  in  the  train." 

As  I  was  to  accompany  our  guest  as  far  as  the 
German  frontier,  I  waited  until  we  had  left  Vichy 
and  discreetly  repeated  my  request  at  the  first 
stop. 

"Certainly,"  said  the  minister,  "you  shall  have  it 
at  the  next  station." 

I  was  beginning  to  feel  uneasy.  At  the  follow- 
ing stopping-place,  there  was  no  sign  of  a  carpet. 
We  were  approaching  the  frontier,  where  my  mis- 
sion ended.  I,  therefore,  resolved  to  apply  to  the 
minister  of  public-works.' 

"Your  excellency." 

"Your  carpet?"  he  broke  in.  "Quite  right,  my 
dear  M.  Paoli.  The  orders  have  been  given  and 
you  shall  have  it  when  you  leave  us  at  the  other 
station." 

But  here  again,  alas,  nothing!  And,  as  I  com- 
plained to  a  third  excellency  of  this  strange  piece 
of  neglect : 


1S4     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"It's  an  omission.  Come  with  us  as  far  as 
Strassburg,  where  you  will  receive  satisfaction." 

At  this  rate,  they  would  have  carried  me,  by  easy 
stages,  to  Teheran.  I,  therefore,  gave  up  all  hopes 
of  my  carpet.  And,  taking  leave  of  these  amiable 
functionaries,  I  heard  the  good  Shah's  voice  cry- 
ing in  the  distance: 

"Good-bye,  Paoli,  worthy  Paoli!  Till  our  next 
meeting  1" 

I  never  saw  him  again. 


IV 

THE    TSAR   NICHOLAS    II    AND    THE 

TSARITSA  ALEXANDRA 

FEODOROVNA 


THE    EMPEROR   AND   EMPRESS    OF   RUSSIA    AND 
THE    GRAND    DUKE   ALEXIS 


IV 

THE    TSAR   NICHOLAS    II   AND    THE 

TSARITSA  ALEXANDRA 

FEODOROVNA 

1. 

ONE  morning  in  June,  1901,  I  had  just 
reached  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior  and 
was  entering  my  office,  when  a  messenger 
came  up  to  me  and  said,  solemnly: 

"The  Prime  Minister  would  like  to  speak  to  you 
at  once,  sir." 

When  a  public  official  is  sent  for  by  his  chief,1 
the  first  thought  that  flashes  across  his  brain  is  that 
of  disgrace,  and  he  instinctively  makes  a  rapid  and 
silent  examination  of  conscience  to  quiet  his  anx- 
ious mind,  unless,  indeed,  he  only  ends  by  alarming 
it.  Nevertheless,  I  admit  that  when  I  received  this 
message,  I  took  it  philosophically.  The  Prime 
Minister,  at  that  time,  was  M.  Waldeck-Rousseau. 
It  is  not  my  business  here  to  pass  judgment  on  the 
politician;  and  I  have  retained  a  most  pleasant 

i  In  France,  the  premiership  is  very  often  held  in  conjunction  with 
the  portfolio  of  the  Interior,  or  Home  Office. — Translator's  Note. 

127 


128     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

recollection  of  the  man.  To  attractions  more 
purely  intellectual  he  added  a  certain  cordiality. 
He  looked  upon  events  and  upon  life  itself  from 
the  point  of  view  of  a  more  or  less  disillusioned 
dilettante;  and  this  made  him  at  once  satirical,  in- 
dulgent and  obliging.  He  honoured  me  with  a 
kindly  friendship,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he 
used  to  reproach  me,  in  his  jesting  way,  with  be- 
coming too  much  of  a  reactionary  from  my  con- 
tact with  the  monarchs  of  Europe  and  that  I  once 
took  his  breath  away  by  telling  him  that  I  had  dined 
with  the  Empress  Eugenie  at  Cap  Martin. 

"A  republican  official  at  the  Empress's  table!" 
he  cried.  "You're  the  only  man,  my  dear  Paoli, 
who  would  dare  to  do  such  a  thing.  And  you're 
the  only  one,"  he  added,  slily,  "in  whom  we  would 
stand  it  1" 

For  all  that,  when  I  entered  his  room  on  this 
particular  morning,  I  was  struck  with  his  thought- 
ful air;  and  my  surprise  increased  still  further  when 
I  saw  him,  after  shaking  hands  with  me,  himself 
close  the  door  and  give  a  glance  to  make  sure  that 
we  were  quite  alone. 

"You  must  not  be  astonished  at  these  precau- 
tions," he  began.  "I  have  some  news  to  tell  you 
which,  for  reasons  which  you  will  understand  as 
soon  as  you  hear  what  the  news  is,  must  be  kept 
secret  as  long  as  possible  and  you  know  that  the 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  129 

walls  of  a  ministerial  office  have  very  sharp  ears. 
This  is  the  news:  I  have  just  heard  from  the  Rus- 
sian ambassador  and  from  Delcasse  that  the  ne- 
gotiations which  were  on  foot  between  the  two 
governments  in  view  of  a  second  visit  of  the  Tsar 
and  Tsaritsa  are  at  last  completed.  Their  Majes- 
ties will  pay  an  official  visit  of  three  days  to  France. 
They  may  come  to  Paris;  in  any  case,  they 
will  stay  at  the  Chateau  de  Compiegne,  where 
the  sovereigns  will  take  up  their  quarters,  together 
with  the  President  of  the  Republic  and  all  of  us. 
They  will  arrive  from  Russia  by  sea ;  they  will  land 
at  Dunkerque  on  the  18th  of  September;  and  from 
there  they  will  go  straight  by  rail  to  Compiegne. 
The  festivities  will  end  with  a  visit  to  Rheims  and 
a  review  of  our  eastern  frontier  troops  at  Bethany 
Camp." 

The  minister  paused  and  then  continued: 
"And  now  I  must  asl$  you  to  listen  to  me  very 
carefully.  I  want  no  accident  nor  incident  of  any 
kind  to  occur  during  this  visit.  The  Tsar  has  been 
made  to  believe  that  his  safety  and  the  Tsaritsa's 
run  the  greatest  risks  through  their  coming  to 
France.  It  is  important  that  we  should  give  the 
lie  in  a  striking  fashion — as  we  did  in  1896 — to 
this  bad  reputation  which  our  enemies  outside  are 
trying  to  give  us.  They  are  simply  working 
against  the  alliance;  and  we  have  the  greatest  po- 


130     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

litical  interest  in  defeating  their  machinations. 
We  must,  therefore,  take  all  necessary  measures 
accordingly;  and  I  am  entrusting  this  task  to 
Cavard,  the  chief  of  the  detective  service,  Hennion, 
his  colleague,  and  yourself.  You  are  to  divide  the 
work  among  you.  Cavard  will  control  the  whole 
thing  and  settle  the  details;  Hennion,  with  his  re- 
markable activity,  will  see  that  they  are  carried  out 
and  devote  himself  to  the  protection  of  the  Tsar; 
and  I  have  reserved  for  you  the  most  enviable  part 
of  the  task:  I  entrust  the  Empress  to  your  special 
care." 

The  Emperor  Nicholas  II  and  the  Empress 
Alexandra  were  very  nearly  the  only  members  of 
the  Russian  Imperial  family  whom  I  did  not  yet 
know.  At  the  time  when  they  made  their  first 
journey  to  Paris,  to  celebrate  the  conclusion  of  the 
Franco-Russian  alliance,  I  was  in  Sweden  as  the 
guest  of  King  Oscar,  His  Majesty  having  most 
graciously  invited  me  to  spend  a  period  of  sick- 
leave  with  him ;  and  it  was  on  the  deck  of  his  yacht, 
at  the  end  of  a  dinner  which  he  gave  me  in  the  Bay 
of  Stockholm,  that  the  news  of  the  triumphal  re- 
ception of  the  Russian  sovereigns  had  come  to  glad- 
den my  patriotism  and  his  faithful  affection  for  the 
country  which,  through  his  Bernadotte  blood,  was 
also  his. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  had  repeatedly  had  the 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  131 

honour  of  attending  the  grand-dukes;  and  I  was 
attached  to  the  person  of  the  Tsarevitch  George  at 
the  time  of  his  two  stays  on  the  Cote  d'Azur,  in  the 
villa  which  he  occupied  at  the  Cap  d'Ail,  facing 
the  sea,  among  the  orange-trees  and  thymes.  I 
had  beheld  the  sad  and  silent  tragedy  enacted  in 
the  mind  of  that  pale  and  suffering  young  prince, 
heir  to  a  mighty  empire,  whom  death  had  al- 
ready marked  for  its  own  and  who  knew  it!  He 
knew  it,  but  had  submitted  to  fate's  decree  with- 
out a  murmur.  Resigning  himself  to  the  in- 
evitable, he  strove  to  enjoy  the  few  last  pleasures 
that  life  still  held  for  him :  the  sunlight,  the  flowers 
and  the  sea;  he  sought  to  beguile  the  anxiety  of 
those  about  him  and  of  his  doctors  by  assuming  a 
mask  of  playful  good-humour  and  an  appearance 
of  youthful  hope  and  zest.  Lastly,  at  the  same 
Villa  des  Terrasses,  I  had  known  the  Dowager- 
Empress  Marie  Feodorovna,  whom  her  great 
green-and-gold  train  had  brought  to  Russia  with 
her  children,  the  Grand-duchess  Xenia  and  the 
Grand-duke  Michael,  at  the  first  news  of  a  slight 
relapse  on  the  part  of  the  illustrious  patient. 

For  two  long  months,  I  took  part  in  the  inner 
life  of  that  little  court;  and  more  than  once  I  de- 
tected the  anguish  of  the  mother  stealthily  trying 
to  read  the  secret  of  her  son's  hectic  eyes,  peering 
at  his  pale  face,  watching  for  his  hoarse,  hard  cough, 


132     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

as  he  walked  beside  her,  or  dined  opposite  her,  or 
played  at  cards  with  his  sister,  or  stroked  with  his 
long  and  too-white  hands  the  head  of  his  lively  and 
slender  greyhound,  Moustique. 

These  memories  were  already  four  years  old. 
How  much  had  happened  since  then!  The  Tsar- 
evitch  George  had  gone  to  the  Caucasus  to  die; 
the  Franco-Russian  alliance,  the  realisation  of 
which  was  contemplated  in  the  interviews  that 
took  place  at  the  Cap  d'Ail  between  the  Dowager 
Empress  and  Baron  de  Mohrenheim,  the  Russian 
ambassador  in  Paris ;  this  alliance  might  almost  al- 
ready be  described  as  an  old  marriage,  in  which  the 
heart  has  its  reasons,  of  which  the  reason  itself  has 
become  aware. 

This  new  visit  of  the  allied  sovereigns,  therefore, 
represented  an  important  trump  in  the  game  of  our 
policy  as  against  the  rest  of  Europe:  it  supplied 
the  ready  answer  which  we  felt  called  upon  to  make 
from  time  to  time  to  those  who  were  anxiously  wait- 
ing for  the  least  event  capable  of  disturbing  the 
intimacy  of  the  Franco-Russian  alliance,  with  a 
view  to  exploiting  any  such  event  in  favour  of  a 
rupture. 

The  reader  will  easily,  therefore,  imagine  the  im- 
portance which  M.  Waldeck-Rousseau  attached  to 
his  watchword:  "No  accident  nor  incident  of  any 
kind!" 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  H  133 

The  measures  of  protection  with  which  a  sover- 
eign is  surrounded  when  he  happens  to  be  Emperor 
of  Russia  are  of  a  more  complicated  and  delicate 
character  than  in  the  case  of  any  other  monarch. 
Guarded  in  a  formidable  manner  by  his  own  police, 
whose  brutal  zeal,  tending  as  it  does  to  offend  and 
exasperate,  is  more  of  a  danger  than  a  protection, 
the  Tsar  is,  unknown  to  himself,  enveloped  by  the 
majority  of  those  who  hover  round  him  in  a  net- 
work of  silent  intrigues  which  keep  up  a  latent 
spirit  of  distrust  and  dismay. 

It  does  not  come  within  my  present  scope  nor 
do  I  here  intend  to  frame  an  indictment  against 
the  Russian  police.  For  that  matter,  tragic  inci- 
dents and  regrettable  scandals  enough  have  re- 
vealed the  sinister  and  complex  underhand  methods 
of  that  occult  force  in  such  a  way  as  to  leave  no 
doubt  concerning  its  nature  in  men's  minds.  I  will 
content  myself  with  confessing  that,  although  the 
numberless  anonymous  letters  which  we  used  to  re- 
ceive at  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior  before  the 
Tsar's  arrival  mostly  failed  to  agitate  us,  the  ap- 
pearance, on  the  other  hand,  of  certain  tenebrous 
persons,  who  came  to  concert  with  us  as  to  "the 
measures  to  be  taken,"  nearly  always  resulted  in 
awakening  secret  terrors  within  us.  I  became  ac- 
quainted in  this  way,  with  some  of  the  celebrated 
"figures"  of  the  Russian  secret  police:  the  fa- 


134     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

mous  Harting  was  one  of  their  number;  and  it 
is  also  possible  that  I  may  have  consorted,  without 
knowing  it,  with  the  mysterious  Azeff.  My  clear- 
est recollection  of  my  relations  with  these  gentry 
—always  excepting  M.  Raskowsky,  the  chief  of 
the  Russian  police  in  Paris — is  that  we  thought  it 
wise  to  keep  them  under  observation  and  to  hide 
from  them  as  far  as  possible  the  measures  which 
we  proposed  to  adopt  for  the  safety  of  their  sover- 
eigns! 

As  I  have  shown  above,  the  responsibility  of 
organising  these  measures  on  the  occasion  of  the 
Tsar's  journey  in  1901  was  entrusted  to  M.  Cavard, 
the  head  of  the  French  political  police;  but  the 
honour  of  ensuring  their  proper  performance  was 
due  above  all  to  M.  Hennion,  his  chief  lieutenant, 
who  has  now  succeeded  him.  In  point  of  fact,  M. 
Cavard's  long  and  brilliant  administrative  career 
had  not  prepared  him  for  such  rough  and  tiring 
tasks.  An  excellent  official,  this  honest  man, 
whose  high  integrity  it  is  a  pleasure  to  me  to  recog- 
nise, had  a  better  grasp  of  the  sedentary  work  of 
the  offices.  Hennion,  on  the  contrary,  "knew  his 
business"  and  possessed  its  special  qualities.  En- 
dowed with  a  remarkable  spirit  of  initiative  and 
an  invariable  coolness,  eager,  indefatigable  and 
shrewd,  fond  of  fighting,  with  a  quick  scent  for 
danger,  he  was  always  seen  in  the  breach  and  he 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  135 

knew  how  to  be  everywhere  at  one  time.  This  was 
an  indispensable  quality  when  the  zone  to  be  pro- 
tected extended,  as  it  did  in  this  case,  over  a  length 
of  several  hundred  miles  and  embraced  almost  half 
France. 

In  what  did  these  measures  consist?  First  of  all, 
in  doubling  the  watch  kept  on  foreigners  living  in 
France  and  notably  on  the  Russian  anarchists. 
The  copious  information  which  we  possessed  about 
their  antecedents  and  their  movements  made  our 
task  an  easy  one.  Paris,  like  every  other  large  city 
in  Europe,  contains  a  pretty  active  focus  of  nihil- 
ism. This  consists  mainly  of  students  and  of 
young  women,  who  are  generally  more  formidable 
than  the  men.  Still,  these  revolutionary  spirits  al- 
ways prefer  theory  to  action  and  were,  conse- 
quently, less  to  be  feared  than  those  who,  on  the 
pretext  of  seeing  the  festivities,  might  come  from 
abroad  charged  with  a  criminal  mission. 

We  had,  therefore,  established  observation-posts 
in  all  the  frontier  stations,  posts  composed  of  offi- 
cers who  lost  no  time  in  fastening  on  the  steps  of 
any  suspicious  traveller.  But,  however  minute  our 
investigations  might  be,  it  was  still  possible  for  the 
threads  of  a  plot  to  escape  us ;  and  we  had  to  pre- 
pare ourselves  against  possible  surprises  at  places 
where  it  was  known  that  the  sovereigns  were  likely 
to  be.  A  special  watch  had  to  be  kept  along  the 


136     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

railways  over  which  the  imperial  train  would  travel 
and  in  the  streets  through  which  the  procession 
would  pass.  For  this  purpose,  we  divided,  as 
usual,  the  line  from  Dunkerque  to  Compiegne  and 
from  Compiegne  to  the  frontier  into  sections  and 
sub-sections,  each  placed  under  the  command  of  the 
district  commissary  of  police,  who  had  under  his 
orders  the  local  police-force  and  gendarmery,  re- 
inforced by  the  troops  stationed  in  the  department. 
Posted  at  intervals  on  either  side  of  the  line,  at  the 
entrance  and  issue  of  the  tunnels,  on  and  under  the 
bridges,  sentries,  with  loaded  rifles,  prevented  any- 
one from  approaching  and  had  orders  to  raise  an 
alarm  if  they  saw  that  the  least  suspicious  object 
had,  unknown  to  them,  been  laid  on  or  near  the 
rails. 

We  also  identified  the  tenants  of  all  the  houses 
situated  either  along  the  railway-line  or  in  the 
streets  through  which  our  guests  were  to  drive. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  what  we  most  feared  was  the 
traditional  outrage  perpetrated  or  attempted  from 
a  window.  On  the  other  hand,  we  refused  (con- 
trary to  what  has  been  stated)  to  adopt  the  system 
employed  by  the  Spanish,  German  and  Italian  po- 
lice on  the  occasion  of  any  visit  from  a  sovereign, 
the  system  which  consists  in  arresting  all  the  "sus- 
pects" during  the  period  of  the  royal  guest's  stay. 
This  proceeding  not  only  appeared  to  us  needlessly 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  137 

vexatious,  for  it  constitutes  a  flagrant  attempt 
upon  the  liberty  of  the  individual,  but  we  thought 
that,  with  our  democracy,  there  was  a  danger  of  its 
alienating  the  sympathy  of  our  population  from  our 
august  visitors.  We  had,  therefore,  to  be  content 
to  forestall  any  possible  catastrophes  by  other  and 
less  arbitrary  means. 

2. 

Our  vigilance  was  naturally  concentrated  with 
the  greatest  attention  upon  Compiegne.  We  sent 
swarms  of  police  to  beat  the  forest  and  search  every 
copse  and  thicket;  and  the  chateau  itself  was  in- 
spected from  garret  to  basement  by  our  most 
trusted  detectives.  These  precautions,  however, 
seemed  insufficient  to  our  colleagues  of  the  Russian 
police.  A  fortnight  before  the  arrival  of  the  sover- 
eigns, one  of  them,  taking  us  aside,  said : 

"The  cellars  must  be  watched." 

"But  it  seems  to  us,"  we  replied,  "that  we  can- 
not very  well  do  more  than  we  are  doing:  they  are 
visited  every  evening;  and  there  are  men  posted  at 
all  the  doors." 

"Very  good;  but  how  do  you  know  that  your 
men  will  not  be  bribed  and  that  the  'terrorists'  will 
not  succeed,  unknown  to  you,  in  placing  an  ex- 
plosive machine  in  some  dark  corner?" 

"But  what  do  you  suggest,  then?" 


138     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"Put  men  upon  whom  you  can  rely,  here  and 
now,  in  each  cellar,  with  instructions  to  remain 
there  night  and  day  until  Their  Majesties*  depar- 
ture. And,  above  all,  see  that  they  hold  no  com- 
munication with  the  outside.  They  must  prepare 
their  own  meals." 

The  solution  may  have  been  ingenious,  but  we 
declined  to  entertain  it;  we  considered,  in  point  of 
fact,  that  it  was  unnecessary  two  weeks  before  the 
coming  of  the  Emperor  and  Empress,  to  condemn 
a  number  of  decent  men  to  underground  imprison- 
ment, a  form  of  torture  which  had  not  been  inflicted 
on  even  the  worst  criminals  for  more  than  a  century 
past. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  mixed  some  detectives 
with  the  numerous  staff  of  workmen  who  were  en- 
gaged in  restoring  the  old  chateau  to  its  ancient 
splendour.  The  erstwhile  imperial  residence,  which 
had  stood  empty  since  the  war,  now  rose  again  from 
its  graceful  and  charming  past  as  though  by  the 
stroke  of  a  fairy's  wand.  The  authorities  hastily 
collected  the  most  sumptuous  remains  of  the  former 
furniture  now  scattered  over  our  museums. 
Gradually,  the  deserted  halls  and  abandoned  bed- 
rooms were  again  filled,  in  the  same  places,  with 
the  same  objects  that  had  adorned  them  in  days 
gone  by.  The  apartments  set  aside  for  the  Tsar 
and  Tsaritsa  were  those  once  occupied  by  the  Em- 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  139 

perors  Napoleon  I  and  Napoleon  III  and  the 
Empresses  Marie-Louise  and  Eugenie.  As  we 
passed  through  them,  our  eyes  were  greeted  by  the 
wonderful  Beauvais  tapestries  of  which  the  King 
of  Prussia,  one  day,  said  that  "no  king's  fortune 
was  large  enough  to  buy  them ;"  we  hesitated  before 
treading  on  the  exquisite  Savonnerie  carpets,  with 
which  Louis  XIV  had  covered  the  floors  of  Ver- 
sailles ;  in  the  Tsarina's  boudoir,  we  admired  Marie- 
Louise's  cheval-glass;  in  her  bed-room  we  found 
the  proud  archduchess's  four-poster;  in  Nicholas 
II's  bed-room,  we  discovered  a  relic:  the  bed  of 
Napoleon  I,  the  beautifully-carved  mahogany  bed- 
stead in  which  the  man  whom  a  great  historian 
called  "that  terrible  antiquarian"  and  whom  no  bat- 
tle had  wearied,  dreamt  of  the  empire  of  Charle- 
magne. Was  it  not  a  striking  irony  of  fate  that 
thus  awarded  the  conqueror's  pillow  to  the  first  pro- 
moter of  peaceful  arbitration? 

While  upholsterers,  gardeners,  carpenters,  lock- 
smiths and  painters  were  carrying  out  the  amazing 
metamorphosis,  the  ministry  was  drawing  up  the 
programme  of  the  rejoicings  and  calling  in  the  aid 
of  the  greatest  poets,  the  most  illustrious  artists, 
the  prettiest  and  most  talented  ballet-dancers. 
Rehearsals  were  held  in  the  theatre  where,  years 
ago,  the  Prince  Imperial  had  made  his  first  ap- 
pearance; the  carriages  were  tested  in  the  ave- 


140     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

nues  of  the  park ;  a  swarm  of  butlers  and  footmen 
were  taught  court  etiquette  in  the  servants'  hall; 
and  certain  ministers'  wives,  trusting  to  the  dis- 
creet solitude  of  their  boudoirs,  took  lessons  in 
solemn  curtseying.  It  was  so  many  days  and 
weeks  of  feverish  expectation,  during  which  every- 
thing had  to  be  improvised  for  the  occasion;  for 
this  was  the  first  time  since  its  advent  that  the 
Republic  was  entertaining  in  the  country. 

And  then  the  great  day  came.  One  morning,  on 
the  platform  of  the  Gare  du  Nord,  a  gentleman 
dressed  in  black,  with  beard  neatly-trimmed,  fol- 
lowed by  ministers,  generals  and  more  persons  in 
black,  including  myself,  stepped  into  a  special 
train.  He  had  been  preceded  by  a  valet  carrying 
three  bags.  .The  first — is  it  not  a  detective's  duty 
to  know  everything? — was  a  dressing-case  contain- 
ing crystal,  silver-topped  fittings ;  the  second,  which 
was  long  and  flat,  held  six  white  shirts,  twelve  col- 
lars, three  night-shirts,  a  pair  of  slippers  and  two 
broad  grand-cross  ribbons,  one  red,  the  other  blue; 
and  in  the  third  were  packed  a  brand-new  dress- 
suit,  six  pairs  of  white  gloves  and  three  pairs  of 
patent-leather  boots.  M.  Loubet,  calm  and  smil- 
ing, was  starting  for  Dunkerque  to  meet  his  guests. 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  141 

3. 

My  first  impression  of  the  young  sovereigns  was 
very  different  from  that  which  I  expected.  To 
judge  by  the  fantastic  measures  taken  in  anticipa- 
tion of  their  arrival  and  by  the  atmosphere  of  sus- 
picion and  mystery  which  people  had  been  pleased 
to  create  around  them,  we  were  tempted  to  picture 
them  as  grave,  solemn,  haughty,  mystical  and  dis- 
trustful; and  our  thoughts  turned,  in  spite  of  our- 
selves to  the  court  of  Ivan  the  Terrible  rather  than 
to  that  of  Peter  the  Great. 

Then,  suddenly,  the  impression  was  changed. 
When  we  saw  them  close  at  hand,  we  beheld  a  very 
united  couple,  very  simple  and  kindly,  anxious  to 
please  everybody  and  to  fall  in  with  everybody's 
wishes,  obviously  hating  official  pomp  and  cere- 
mony and  regretting  to  be  continually  separated 
by  impenetrable  barriers  from  the  rest  of  the  world. 
We  perceived  that  they  liked  to  be  unreserved,  that 
they  were  capable  of  "soulful  outbursts"  and  of 
endless  delicacy  of  thought,  especially  for  their 
humbler  fellow-citizens.  We  detected  in  the 
laughter  in  his  eyes  a  frank  and  youthful  gaiety 
that  disliked  restraint;  and  we  suspected  in  the 
melancholy  of  hers  the  secret  tragedy  of  an  ever- 
anxious  affection,  of  a  destiny  weighed  down  by 
the  burden  of  a  crown  in  which  there  were  all 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

too  many  thorns  and  too  few  roses.  And  I  con- 
fess, at  the  risk  of  being  anathematised  by  our 
fierce  democrats,  that  autocracy,  as  personified  by 
this  young  couple,  who  would  clearly  have  been 
happier  between  a  samovar  and  a  cradle  than  be- 
tween a  double  row  of  bayonets,  that  autocracy, 
under  this  unexpected  aspect,  possessed  nothing 
very  terrifying  and  even  presented  a  certain 
charm. 

I  think,  besides,  that  an  erroneous  opinion  has 
been  generally  formed  of  the  Tsar's  character.  He 
has  been  said  and  is  still  said  to  be  a  weak  man. 
Now  I  should  be  inclined,  on  this  point,  to  think 
with  M.  Loubet  that  Nicholas  II's  "weakness"  is 
more  apparent  than  real  and  that  in  him,  as  for- 
merly in  our  Napoleon  III,  there  is  "a  gentle  ob- 
stinate" who  has  very  strong  ideas  of  his  own,  a 
being  conscious  of  his  power  and  proud  of  the  glory 
of  his  name. 

Nicholas  II,  at  the  time  of  his  second  visit  to 
France,  had  met  M.  Loubet  before.  When  the 
Emperor  first  came  to  France,  in  1896,  the  future 
President  of  the  Republic  was  president  of  the 
Senate  and,  in  this  capacity,  had  not  only  been  pre- 
sented to  the  sovereign,  but  received  a  visit  from 
him.  In  this  connexion,  the  late  M.  Felix  Faure 
used  to  tell  an  amusing  story,  which  he  said  that  he 
had  from  the  Tsar  in  person. 


UJ 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  143 

It  was  after  a  luncheon  at  the  Elysee.  Nicholas 
II  had  told  President  Faure  that  he  would  like  to 
call  on  the  president  of  the  Senate  and  expressed 
a  wish  to  go  to  the  Palais  du  Luxembourg,  if  possi- 
ble, incognito.  A  landau  was  at  once  provided, 
without  an  escort;  and  the  Emperor  stepped  in, 
accompanied  by  General  de  Boisdeffre.  At  that 
hour,  the  peaceful  Luxembourg  quarter  was  almost 
deserted.  The  people  in  the  streets,  expecting  the 
Tsar  to  drive  back  from  the  Russian  Embassy,  had 
drifted  in  that  direction  to  cheer  him. 

Wishing  first  to  find  out  if  M.  Loubet  was  there, 
General  de  Boisdeffre  had  ordered  the  coachman 
to  stop  a  few  yards  from  the  palace,  opposite  the 
gate  of  the  Luxembourg  gardens.  He  then 
alighted  to  go  and  enquire  and  to  tell  the  president 
of  the  Senate  that  an  august  visitor  was  waiting  at 
his  door. 

The  Tsar,  left  alone  in  the  carriage  and  delighted 
at  feeling  free  and  at  his  ease,  looked  out  of  the 
window  with  all  the  zest  of  a  schoolboy  playing 
truant.  He  saw  before  him  one  of  those  pictur- 
esque street- Arabs,  who  seem  to  sprout  between  the 
paving-stones  of  Paris.  This  particular  specimen, 
seated  against  the  railings,  was  whistling  the  refrain 
of  the  Russian  national  hymn,  with  his  nose  in  the 
air.  Suddenly,  their  eyes  met.  The  wondering 
street-boy  sprang  to  his  feet ;  he  had  never  seen  the 


144     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Emperor,  but  he  had  seen  his  photographs ;  and  the 
likeness  was  striking. 

"Suppose  it  is  Nicholas?"  he  said  to  himself, 
greatly  puzzled. 

And,  as  he  was  an  inquisitive  lad,  he  resolved  to 
make  sure  without  delay.  He  took  an  heroic  de- 
cision, walked  up  to  within  a  yard  of  the  carriage 
and  there,  bobbing  down  his  head,  shouted  in  a 
hoarse  voice  to  the  unknown  foreigner: 

"How's  the  Empress?" 

Picture  his  stupefaction — for,  in  point  of  fact,  he 
only  thought  that  he  was  having  a  good  joke — when 
he  heard  the  stranger  reply,  with  a  smile : 

"Thank  you,  the  Empress  is  very  well  and  is 
delighted  with  her  journey." 

The  boy,  then  and  there,  lost  his  tongue.  He 
stared  at  the  speaker  in  dismay;  and  then,  after 
raising  his  cap,  stalked  away  slowly,  very  slowly, 
to  mark  his  dignity. 

Nicholas  II  retained  a  delightful  recollection  of 
this  private  interview  with  a  true  Parisian  and  long 
amused  himself  by  scandalising  the  formal  set 
around  him  with  the  story  of  this  adventure. 

4. 

If,  on  his  second  stay,  he  did  not  have  the  occa- 
sion of  coming  into  contact  with  the  people,  he  none 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  145 

the  less  enjoyed  the  satisfaction  of  being  admirably 
received. 

The  episodes  of  the  first  day  of  this  memorable 
visit,  from  the  moment  when,  on  the  deck  of  the 
Standart,  lying  off  Dunkerque,  the  sovereigns,  as 
is  customary  whenever  they  leave  their  yacht,  re- 
ceived the  salute  of  the  sailors  and  the  blessing  of 
the  old  priest  in  his  violet  cassock:  these  episodes 
have  been  too  faithfully  chronicled  in  the  press  for 
me  to  linger  over  them  here.  It  was  a  magnificent 
landing,  amid  the  thunder  of  the  guns  and  the 
hurrahs  of  the  enthusiastic  populace.  Then  came 
the  journey  from  Dunkerque  to  Compiegne,  a  real 
triumphal  progress,  in  which  the  cheers  along  the 
line  seemed  to  travel  almost  as  fast  as  the  train, 
for  they  were  linked  from  town  to  town,  from  vil- 
lage to  village,  from  farm  to  farm.  At  last  came 
the  arrival,  at  nightfall,  in  the  little  illuminated 
town,  followed  by  the  torch-light  procession,  in 
which  the  fantastic  figure  of  the  red  cossack 
stood  out,  as  he  clung  to  the  back  of  the  Em- 
press's carriage;  the  entrance  into  the  court- 
yard of  the  chateau  all  ablaze  with  light;  the  slow 
ascent  of  the  staircases  lined  with  cuirassiers,  stand- 
ing immovable,  with  drawn  swords,  and  powdered 
footmen,  in  blue  liveries  a  la  franfaise,1  and,  lastly, 

1  The  habit  a  la  franqaise,  once  a  military  cloak,  now  used  purely 


146     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

the  presentations,  enlivened,  at  a  certain  moment 
by  the  artless  question  which  a  minister's  wife,  ir» 
a  great  state  of  excitement  and  anxious  to  please, 
addressed  to  the  Empress: 
"How  are  your  little  ones?" 

5. 

Although  from  the  time  of  leaving  Dunkerque,  I 
had  taken  up  my  duties,  which,  as  the  reader  knows, 
consisted  more  particularly  in  ensuring  the  per- 
sonal safety  of  the  Empress,  I  had  as  yet  only 
caught  a  glimpse  of  that  gracious  lady.  A  few 
hours  after  our  arrival  at  the  chateau,  chance  made 
me  come  across  her  and  she  deigned  to  speak  to 
me.  I  doubt  whether  she  observed  my  state  of 
flurry;  and  yet,  that  evening,  without  knowing  it, 
she  was  the  cause  of  a  strange  hallucination  of  my 
mind. 

I  had  left  the  procession  at  the  entrance  to  the 
drawing-rooms,  in  order  to  go  and  ascertain  if  our 
orders  had  been  faithfully  carried  out  in  and 
around  the  imperial  apartments.  Gradually,  as  I 
penetrated  into  the  maze  of  long  silent  corridors, 
filled  with  my  own  officers,  impassive  in  their  foot- 
men's liveries,  a  crowd  of  confused  memories  rose 

for  livery,  is  a  heavily  embroidered  coat,  similar  to  that  of  an 
English  flunkey,  but  of  a  less  voluminous  cut  and  shorter. — Trant- 
lator't  Note. 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  147, 

in  my  brain.  I  remembered  a  certain  evening, 
similar  to  the  present,  when  the  palace  was  all  lit 
up  for  a  celebration.  I,  at  that  time,  still  a  young 
student,  had  come  to  see  my  kinsman,  Dr.  Conneau, 
physician  to  the  Emperor  Napoleon  III.  We 
went  along  the  same  corridors  together,  when,  sud- 
denly holding  me  back  by  the  sleeve  and  pointing 
to  a  proud  and  radiant,  fair-haired  figure  which  at 
that  moment  passed  through  the  vivid  brightness  of 
a  distant  gallery,  he  said : 

"The  Empress!" 

Now,  at  the  same  spot,  forty  years  after,  another 
voice,  that  of  one  of  my  inspectors,  came  and  whis- 
pered in  my  ear: 

"The  Empress!" 

I  started;  in  front  of  me,  at  the  end  of  the  gal- 
lery, a  figure,  also  radiant  and  also  fair,  had  sud- 
denly come  into  view.  Was  it  a  dream,  a  fairy- 
tale? No,  there  was  another  empress,  that  was  all; 
in  the  same  frame  in  which,  as  a  boy,  I  had  first 
set  eyes  upon  the  Empress  Eugenie,  I  now  saw  the 
Empress  Alexandra  coming  towards  me.  I  was 
so  much  taken  aback  that,  at  first,  I  stood  rooted 
to  the  spot,  seeking  to  recover  my  presence  of  mind. 
She  continued  her  progress,  proceeding  to  her 
apartments  followed  by  her  ladies-in-waiting. 
When  she  was  at  a  few  yards  from  the  place  where 
I  stood  motionless,  her  eyes  fell  upon  me ;  then  she 


came  up  to  me  and,  holding  out  her  white  and  slen- 
der hand : 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you,  M.  Paoli,"  she  said,  "for 
I  know  how  highly  my  dear  grandmother,  Queen 
Victoria,  used  to  think  of  you." 

What  she  did  not  know  was  how  often  Queen 
Victoria  had  spoken  of  her  to  me.  That  great 
sovereign,  in  fact,  cherished  a  special  affection  for 
the  child  of  her  idolised  daughter,  the  Grand- 
duchess  Alice  of  Hesse.  The  child  reminded  her 
of  the  happy  time  when  the  princess  wrote  to  her 
from  Darmstadt,  on  the  day  after  the  birth  of  the 
future  Empress  of  Russia : 

"She  is  the  personification  of  her  nickname,  'Sunny,' 
much  like  Ella,  but  a  smaller  head,  and  livelier,  with 
Ernie's  dimple  and  expression." 

Then,  a  few  days  later: 

"We  think  of  calling  her  Alix  (Alice  they  pronounce 
too  dreadfully  in  Germany)  Helena  Louisa  Beatrice;  and, 
if  Beatrice  may,  we  would  like  her  to  have  her  for  god- 
mother." 

And  these  letters,  so  pretty,  so  touching,  con- 
tinued through  the  years  that  followed.  The  baby 
had  grown  into  a  little  girl,  the  little  girl  into  a 
young  girl;  and  her  mother  kept  Queen  Victoria 
informed  of  the  least  details  concerning  the  child. 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  149 

She  was  anxious,  fond  and  proud  by  turns;  and 
she  asked  for  advice  over  and  over  again : 

"I  strive  to  bring  her  up  totally  free  from  pride  of  her 
position,  which  is  nothing  save  what  her  personal  merit 
can  make  it.  I  feel  so  entirely  as  you  do  on  the  differ- 
ence of  rank  and  how  all  important  it  is  for  Princes  and 
Princesses  to  know  that  they  are  nothing  better  or  above 
others  save  through  their  own  merit  and  that  they  have 
only  the  double  duty  of  living  for  others  and  of  being  an 
example,  good  and  modest." 

Next  come  more  charming  details.  Princess 
Alice,  returning  to  her  children  at  Darmstadt  after 
a  visit  to  England,  writes  to  the  Queen : 

"They  eat  me  up!  They  had  made  wreaths  over  the 
doors  and  had  no  end  of  things  to  tell  me  ... 

"We  arrived  at  three  and  there  was  not  a  moment's 
rest  till  they  were  all  in  bed  and  I  had  heard  the  different 
prayers  of  the  six,  with  all  the  different  confidences  they 
had  to  make." 

Elsewhere,  interesting  particulars  about  the  edu- 
cation of  Princess  Alix,  an  exclusively  English 
education,  very  simple  and  very  healthy,  the  pro- 
gramme of  which  included  every  form  of  physical 
exercise,  such  as  bicycling,  skating,  tennis  and  rid- 
ing, and  allowed  her,  by  way  of  pocket-money,  50 
pfennigs  a  week  between  the  ages  of  4  and  8;  1 
mark  from  8  to  12;  and  2  marks  from  12  to  16 
years. 


150     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

In  the  twenty-nine  years  that  had  passed  since 
the  first  of  these  letters  was  written,  what  a  num- 
ber of  events  had  occurred ! 

Princess  Alice,  that  admirable  mother,  had  died 
from  giving  a  kiss  to  her  son  Ernie,  when  he  was 
suffering  from  diphtheria;  the  royal  grandmother, 
in  her  turn,  had  died  quite  recently.  Of  the  seven 
children  whose  gaiety  brightened  the  domestic 
charm  of  the  little  court  at  Darmstadt,  two  had 
perished  in  a  tragic  fashion:  Prince  Fritz,  first, 
killed  by  an  accidental  fall  from  a  window,  while 
playing  with  his  brother;  and  Princess  May,  car- 
ried off  in  twenty-four  hours,  she,  too,  by  diph- 
theria caught  at  the  bedside  of  her  sister  "Aliky," 
the  present  Empress  of  Russia.  As  for  the  other 
"dear  little  ones,"  as  Queen  Victoria  called  them, 
they  had  all  been  dispersed  by  fate.  "Ella"  had 
become  the  Grand-duchess  Serge  of  Russia;  "En- 
ric"  had  succeeded  his  father  on  the  throne  of 
Hesse;  two  of  his  sisters  had  married,  one  Prince 
Henry  of  Prussia,  the  other  Prince  Louis  of  Bat- 
tenberg;  and  the  last  had  become  the  wearer  of  the 
heaviest  of  all  crowns.  And  now  chance  placed  her 
here,  before  me. 

I  looked  at  her  with,  in  my  mind,  the  memory 
of  all  the  letters  which  an  august  and  kindly  con- 
descension had  permitted  me  to  read  and  of  the 
gentle  emotion  with  which  the  good  and  great 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  151 

Queen  used  to  speak  of  the  Princess  Alice  and  of 
her  daughter,  the  present  Empress  of  Russia. 
Her  features  had  not  yet  acquired,  under  the  im- 
perial diadem,  that  settled  air  of  melancholy  which 
the  obsession  of  a  perpetual  danger  was  to  give  her 
later;  in  the  brilliancy  of  her  full-blown  youth, 
which  set  a  gladsome  pride  upon  the  tall,  straight 
forehead;  in  the  golden  sheen  of  her  queenly  hair; 
in  her  grave  and  limpid  blue  eyes,  through  which 
shot  gleams  of  sprightliness ;  in  her  smile,  still 
marked  by  the  dimples  of  her  girlish  days,  I  recog- 
nised her  to  whom  the  fond  imagination  of  a  justly- 
proud  mother  had  awarded,  in  her  cradle,  the  pretty 
nickname  of  "Sunny." 

She  stopped  before  me  for  a  few  moments.  Be- 
fore moving  away,  she  said: 

"I  believe  you  are  commissioned  to  'look  after' 
me?" 

"That  is  so,"  I  replied. 

"I  hope,"  she  added,  laughing,  "that  I  shall  not 
give  you  too  much  worry." 

I  dared  not  confess  to  her  that  it  was  not  only 
worry,  but  perpetual  anguish  that  her  presence  and 
the  Tsar's  were  causing  me. 

6. 

We  had  to  be  continually  on  the  watch,  to  have 
safe  men  at  every  door,  in  every  passage,  on  every 


152     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

floor;  we  had  to  superintend  the  least  details.  I 
remember,  for  instance,  standing  by  for  nearly  two 
hours  while  the  Empress's  dresses  were  being  un- 
packed, so  great  was  our  fear  lest  a  disguised  bomb 
might  be  slipped  into  one  of  the  sovereign's  nu- 
merous trunks,  while  the  women  were  arranging  the 
gowns  in  the  special  presses  and  cupboards  intended 
for  them.  Lastly,  day  and  night,  we  had  to  go  on 
constant  rounds,  both  inside  and  outside  the 
chateau. 

On  the  occasion  of  one  of  these  minute  investiga- 
tions, I  met  with  a  rather  interesting  adventure. 
Not  far  from  the  apartments  reserved  for  the  Em- 
press Alexandra's  ladies  was  an  unoccupied  room, 
the  door  of  which  was  locked.  It  appeared  that, 
during  the  Empire,  this  room  had  been  used  by 
Madame  Bruant,  the  Prince  Imperial's  governess, 
wife  of  Admiral  Bruant.  At  a  time  when  every 
apartment  in  the  chateau  was  thrown  open  for  the 
visit  of  our  imperial  guests,  why  did  this  one  alone 
remain  closed?  I  was  unable  to  say.  In  any  case, 
my  duty  obliged  me  to  leave  no  corner  unexplored ; 
and,  on  the  first  evening,  I  sent  for  a  bunch  of 
keys.  After  a  few  ineffectual  attempts,  the  lock 
yielded,  the  door  opened  .  .  .  and  imagine 
my  bewilderment!  In  a  charming  disorder,  tin 
soldiers,  dancing  dolls,  rocking  horses  and  beau- 
tiful picture-books  lay  higgledy-piggledy  in  the 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  153 

middle  of  the  room,  around  a  great,  big,  ugly 
plush  bear! 

I  enquired  and  found  that  they  were  the  Prince 
Imperial's  toys:  they  had  been  left  there  and  for- 
gotten for  thirty  years.  And  an  interesting  coin- 
cidence was  that  the  big  bear  was  the  last  present 
made  by  the  Tsar  Alexander  II  to  the  little  prince. 

I  softly  closed  the  door  which  I  had  opened  upon 
the  past;  I  resolved  to  respect  those  playthings; 
there  are  memories  which  it  is  better  not  to  awaken. 

The  next  morning  chance  allowed  me  to  assist  at 
a  sight  which  many  a  photographer  would  have 
been  glad  to  "snap."  The  Tsar  and  Tsaritsa,  who 
are  both  very  early  risers,  had  gone  down  to  the 
garden,  accompanied  by  their  great  greyhound, 
which  answered  to  the  name  of  Lofki.  The  Tsar 
was  expected  to  go  shooting  that  morning,  in  an- 
ticipation of  which  intention  the  keepers  had  spent 
the  night  in  filling  the  park  with  pheasants,  deer 
and  hares.  Their  labours  were  wasted;  Nicholas 
II  preferred  to  stroll  round  the  lawns  with  the  Em- 
press. She  was  bare-headed  and  had  simply  put 
up  a  parasol  against  the  sun,  which  was  of  dazzling 
brightness;  she  carried  a  camera  slung  over  her 
shoulder.  The  young  couple,  whom  I  followed 
hidden  behind  a  shrubbery,  turned  their  steps  to- 
wards the  covered  walk  of  hornbeams  which  Na- 
poleon I  had  had  made  for  Marie-Louise,  hoping, 


154     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

no  doubt,  to  find  in  the  shade  of  this  beautiful  leafy 
vault,  which  autumn  was  already  decking  with  its 
copper  hues,  a  discreet  solitude  suited  to  the  billing 
and  cooing  of  the  pair  of  lovers  that  they  were. 
But  the  departments  of  public  ceremony  and  pub- 
lic safety  were  on  the  lookout;  already,  inside  the 
bosky  tunnel,  fifty  soldiers  commanded  by  a  lieuten- 
ant, were  presenting  arms! 

The  sovereigns  had  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad 
job.  The  Emperor  reviewed  the  men  with  a  seri- 
ous face  and  the  Empress  photographed  them  and 
promised  to  send  the  lieutenant  a  print  as  soon  as 
the  plate  was  developed.  Thereupon  the  Tsar  and 
Tsaritsa  walked  away  in  a  different  direction.  A 
charming  little  wood  appeared  before  their  eyes. 
Lofki  was  running  ahead  of  them.  Suddenly,  a 
furious  barking  was  heard;  and  four  gendarmes 
emerged  from  behind  a  clump  of  fir-trees  and,  pre- 
senting arms,  gave  the  military  salute! 

There  was  nothing  to  be  done  and  the  sovereigns 
gaily  accepted  the  situation.  With  a  merry  burst 
of  laughter,  they  turned  on  their  heels  and  resolved 
to  go  back  to  the  chateau.  By  way  of  consolation, 
the  Tsaritsa  amused  herself  by  photographing  her 
husband,  who,  in  his  turn,  took  a  snapshot  of  his 
wife. 

They  showed  no  bitterness  on  account  of  the  dis- 
appointment which  their  walk  must  have  caused 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  155 

them.  In  fact,  to  anybody  who  asked  him,  on  his 
return,  if  he  had  enjoyed  his  stroll,  Nicholas  II 
contented  himself  with  saying : 

"Oh,  yes,  the  grounds  are  beautiful;  and  I  now 
know  what  you  mean  by  'a  well-cared-for  prop- 
erty'!" 

7. 

While  life  was  being  arranged  in  the  great  palace 
and  everyone  settling  down  as  if  he  were  to  stay 
there  for  a  month  instead  of  three  days;  while  the 
head  of  the  kitchens,  acting  under  the  inspiration  of 
the  head  of  the  ceremonial  department,  was  cudgel- 
ling his  brains  to  bring  his  menus  into  harmony  with 
politics  by  introducing  subtle  alliances  of  French 
and  Russian  dishes;  while  the  musicians  were  tun- 
ing their  violins  for  the  "gala"  concert  of  the  even- 
ing and  Mme.  Bartet,  that  divine  actress,  prepar- 
ing to  utter,  in  her  entrancing  voice,  M.  Edmund 
Rostand's  famous  lines  beginning,  "Oh!  Oh!  Void 
une  imperatrice!"  l  while  the  Tsaritsa,  at  first  a  litr 
tie  lost  amid  these  new  surroundings,  found  a  friend 
in  the  Marquise  de  Montebello,  our  agreeable  am- 
bassadress in  St.  Petersburg,  of  whom  people  used 
to  say  that  she  justified  Turgenev's  epigram  when 
he  declared  that,  wherever  you  see  a  Frenchwoman, 
you  see  all  France ;  while  the  most  complete  serenity 

i  "Oho !     An  empress  comes  this  way !" — Translator's  Note. 


156     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

seemed  to  reign  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  cha- 
teau, a  solemn  question  was  stirring  all  men's  minds. 
Would  the  Tsar  go  to  Paris?  As  it  was,  the  people 
of  Paris  were  disappointed  because  the  reception 
had  not  been  held  in  the  capital,  as  in  1896;  would 
he  give  it  the  compensation  of  a  few  hours'  visit? 
A  special  train  was  awaiting,  with  steam  up,  in  the 
station  at  Compiegne;  long  confabulations  took 
place  between  the  Emperor  and  M.  Waldeck-Rous- 
seau;  a  luncheon  was  prepared  at  the  Elysee  with 
a  view  to  the  entertainment  of  an  illustrious  guest; 
secret  orders  were  given  to  the  police.  In  short, 
nobody  doubted  that  Nicholas  II  intended  to  carry 
out  a  plan  which  everybody  ascribed  to  him. 

Nothing  came  of  it.  The  Tsar  did  not  go  to 
Paris. 

.This  sudden  change  of  purpose  was  interpreted 
in  different  ways.  Some  people  pretended  that  the 
prime  minister  was  at  the  bottom  of  it,  M.  Wal- 
deck-Rousseau  having  declared  that  he  could  not 
answer  for  the  Emperor's  safety  in  view  of  the  in- 
adequate nature  of  the  preparations.  In  reality, 
we  never  learnt  the  true  reasons;  and  I  have  often 
asked  myself  whether  this  regrettable  decision 
should  not  be  attributed  to  the  influence  of 
"Philippe." 

Who  was  "Philippe"?  A  strange,  disconcert- 
ing being,  who  had  something  of  the  quack  about 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  157 

him  and  something  of  the  prophet  and  who  followed 
the  Tsar  like  a  shadow. 

His  story  was  an  astounding  one  from  start  to 
finish.  He  was  a  native  of  Lyons — a  Frenchman, 
therefore — who  pretended,  with  the  assistance  of 
mystical  practices  and  of  inner  voices  which  he  sum- 
moned forth  and  consulted,  to  be  able  to  cure 
maladies,  to  forestall  dangers,  to  foresee  future 
events.  He  gave  consultations  and  wrote  prescrip- 
tions, for  he  did  not  reject  the  aid  of  science. 
And,  as  he  came  within  the  law  which  forbids  the 
illegal  practice  of  medicine,  he  hit  upon  the  obvious 
expedient  of  marrying  his  daughter  to  a  doctor,  who 
acted  as  his  man  of  straw.  His  waiting-room  was 
never  empty  from  the  day  when  the  Grand-duke 
Nicholas  Michaelovitch,  chancing  to  pass  through 
Lyons  and  to  hear  of  this  mysterious  personage, 
thought  that  he  would  consult  him  about  his  rheu- 
matism. What  happened?  This  much  is  certain, 
that  the  grand-duke,  on  returning  to  Russia,  de- 
clared that  Philippe  had  cured  him  as  though  by 
magic  and  that  he  possessed  the  power  not  only  of 
driving  out  pain,  but  of  securing  the  fulfilment  of 
every  wish.  The  Emperor,  at  that  time,  was  long- 
ing for  an  heir.  Greatly  impressed  by  his  cousin's 
stories  and  by  his  profound  conviction,  he  re- 
solved to  summon  the  miracle-monger  to  St.  Pe- 
tersburg. This  laid  the  foundation  of  Philippe's 


158     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

fortunes.  Admirably  served  by  his  lucky  star, 
highly  intelligent,  gifted  with  the  manners  of  an 
apostle  and  an  appearance  of  absolute  disinterested- 
ness, he  gradually  succeeded  in  acquiring  a  con- 
siderable hold  not  only  on  the  imperial  family,  but 
on  the  whole  court.  People  began  to  believe  very 
seriously  in  his  supernatural  powers.  Made  much 
of  and  respected,  he  had  free  access  to  the  sovereigns 
and  ended  by  supplanting  both  doctors  and  advisers. 
He  also  treated  cases  at  a  distance,  by  auto-sug- 
gestion. Whenever  he  obtained  leave  to  go  home 
on  a  visit,  he  kept  up  with  his  illustrious  clients  an 
exchange  of  telegrams  that  would  tend  to  make  us 
smile,  if  they  did  not  stupefy  us  at  the  thought  of 
so  much  credulity.  Thus,  a  given  person  of  quality 
would  wire: 

"Suffering  violent  pains  head  entreat  give 
relief." 

Whereupon  Philippe  would  at  once  reply: 

"Have  concentrated  thought  on  pain;  expect  cure 
between  this  and  five  o'clock  to-morrow." 

This  is  not  an  invention:  I  have  seen  the  tele- 
grams. 

For  people  to  have  so  blind  a  faith  in  his  media- 
tion, he  must  obviously  have  effected  a  certain 
number  of  cures.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  believe  that 
the  power  of  the  will  is  such  that,  in  certain  af- 
fections which  depended  partly  upon  the  nervous 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  159 

system,  he  succeeded  in  suggesting  to  a  patient  that 
he  was  not  and  could  not  be  ill. 

However,  what  was  bound  to  happen,  happened. 
His  star  declined  from  the  day  when  people  be- 
came persuaded  that  he  was  not  infallible.  The 
Tsar's  set  precipitated  his  disgrace  when  the 
Tsaritsa  brought  another  daughter  into  the  world, 
instead  of  the  promised  son.  One  fine  day, 
Philippe  went  back  to  Lyons  for  good;  he  died 
there  a  few  years  ago.  And,  in  the  following  year, 
the  mighty  empire  had  an  heir! 

At  the  time  of  the  visit  of  the  sovereigns  to  Com- 
piegne,  he  was  still  at  the  height  of  his  favour.  He 
accompanied  our  imperial  hosts;  and  his  presence 
at  the  chateau  surprised  us  as  much  as  anything. 
In  fact,  like  the  Doge  of  Venice  who  came  to  Ver- 
sailles under  Louis  XIV,  he  himself  might  have 
said: 

"What  astonishes  me  most  is  to  see  myself 
here!" 

But  Philippe  was  astonished  at  nothing.  Anx- 
ious to  retain  his  personality  in  the  midst  of  that 
gold-laced  crowd,  he  walked  about  the  apartments 
in  a  grey  suit  and  brown  shoes ;  on  the  first  day,  he 
was  within  an  ace  of  being  arrested;  we  took  him 
for  an  anarchist! 

Our  extreme  distrust,  to  which  the  unfortunate 
Philippe  nearly  fell  a  victim,  was  only  too  well 


160     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

justified.  I  believe  that  I  am  not  guilty  of  an  in- 
discretion— for  the  memorable  events  of  1901  are 
now  a  matter  of  history — when  I  say  to-day  that 
there  was  an  attempt,  an  attempt  of  which  our 
guests  never  heard,  because  a  miraculous  accident 
enabled  us  to  defeat  its  execution  in  the  nick  of 
time. 

It  was  in  the  cathedral  of  Rheims  that  the 
criminal  effort  was  to  be  accomplished  during  the 
visit  of  the  sovereigns,  who  had  expressed  a  desire 
to  see  the  inside  of  that  exquisite  fabric.  On  learn- 
ing of  Their  Majesties'  intention,  our  colleagues 
of  the  Russian  police  displayed  the  greatest  nerv- 
ousness : 

"Nothing  could  be  easier,"  they  told  us,  a  few 
days  before  the  visit,  "than  for  a  Terrorist  to  de- 
posit a  bomb  in  some  dark  place,  under  a  chair, 
behind  a  confessional,  or  at  the  foot  of  a  statue. 
The  interior  of  the  cathedral  must  be  watched  from 
this  moment,  together  with  the  people  who  enter  it." 

Although  we  had  already  thought  of  this,  they 
decided,  on  their  part,  to  entrust  this  task  to  an 
"informer" — in  other  words,  a  spy — of  Belgian 
nationality,  who  had  joined  the  Russian  detective- 
service.  Hennion,  who  was  always  prudent, 
hastened,  in  his  turn,  to  set  a  watch  on  the  "in- 
former." Twenty-four  hours  later,  one  of  his  men 
came  to  see  him  in  a  great  state  of  fright: 


THE  TSAR  NICHOLAS  II  161 

"M.  Hennion,"  he  said,  "I  have  obtained  proof 
that  the  'informer'  is  connected  with  a  gang  of 
Terrorists.  They  are  preparing  an  attack  in  the 
cathedral!" 

Hennion  did  not  hesitate  for  a  moment.  He 
hastened  to  Rheims,  instituted  a  police-search  in 
a  room  which  the  "informer"  had  secretly  hired 
under  a  false  name  and  seized  a  correspondence 
which  left  no  doubt  whatever  as  to  the  existence  of 
the  plot.  The  "informer"  himself  was  to  do  the 
dirty  work! 

He  was  at  once  arrested  and  pressed  with  ques- 
tions : 

"I  swear  that  I  know  nothing  about  it,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "and  that's  the  plain  truth!" 

"Very  well,"  said  Hennion,  who  held  absolute 
proof.  "Take  this  man  to  prison,"  he  ordered, 
"since  he's  telling  the  truth,  and  drag  him  back  to 
me  when  he  decides  to  tell  a  lie." 

The  next  day,  the  man  confessed. 

This  was  the  only  tragic  episode  that  occurred 
during  the  imperial  visit.  Nevertheless,  in  spite  of 
the  satisfaction  which  we  had  felt  at  receiving  the 
Tsar  and  Tsaritsa,  we  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  when, 
on  the  following  day,  we  saw  the  train  that  was  to 
take  them  back  to  Russia  steam  out  of  the  station. 

They  were  still  alive,  God  be  praised !  But  that 
was  almost  more  than  could  be  said  of  us ! 


V 
THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY 


V 

THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY 

1. 

I   HAVE  always  harboured  a  vagrant  spirit 
under   my   official   frock-coat.     I   find   my 
pleasure  and  my  rest  in  travelling.     I,  there- 
fore, took  advantage  of  a  few  weeks'  leave  of  ab- 
sence, allowed  me  after  the  departure  of  the  Rus- 
sian sovereigns,  to  pay  a  visit  to  Italy. 

A  few  days  after  my  arrival  at  Milan,  I  was 
strolling,  one  afternoon,  on  the  well-known  Gal- 
leria  Vittorio  Emmanuele,  that  favourite  Milanese 
and  cosmopolitan  resort,  whose  incessant  and 
picturesque  animation  presages  the  gaiety,  if  not 
the  charm  of  Italy,  when  the  window  of  a  glove- 
shop  caught  my  eye  and  reminded  me  that  I  had 
left  my  gloves  in  the  railway-carriage.  I  thought 
I  might  as  well  buy  myself  a  new  pair;  and  I 
entered  the  shop.  A  customer  had  gone  in  before 
me.  It  was  a  lady,  young,  tall  and  slender,  quietly 
but  elegantly  dressed  in  a  plain,  dark  travelling- 
frock.  Through  the  long  blue  motor-veil  that  close- 
shrouded  her  face  and  even  her  hat,  a  pair  of  eyes 

165 


166     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

gleamed,  black  and,  as  I  thought,  large  and  beau- 
tiful; her  hair  was  dark  and,  as  far  as  I  could  see, 
she  had  masses  of  it;  the  face  seemed  refined  and 
pretty.  Leaning  on  the  counter,  she  tried  on  the 
gloves  which  a  young  shop-assistant  handed  to  her. 
None  of  them  fitted  her. 

"They  are  too  large,"  she  said,  shyly. 

"That  is  because  the  signora  has  so  small  a  hand," 
replied  the  young  assistant,  gallantly. 

She  smiled  and  did  not  answer;  the  elderly  lady 
who  was  with  her  gave  the  youth  an  indignant  and 
scandalised  glance.  After  patiently  allowing  the 
measure  to  be  taken  of  her  hand,  open  and  closed — 
it  was  indeed  a  very  small  one — she  ended  by  find- 
ing two  pairs  of  gloves  to  suit  her,  paid  for  them 
and  went  out. 

Just  then,  the  owner  of  the  shop  returned.  He 
looked  at  the  lady,  gave  a  bewildered  start,  bowed 
very  low  and,  as  soon  as  she  was  gone,  shouted  to 
his  assistant: 

"Have  you  the  least  idea  whom  you  have  been 
serving?" 

"A  very  pretty  woman,  I  know  that!" 

"Idiot!     It  was  the  Queen!" 

The  Queen!  It  was  my  turn  to  feel  bewildered. 
The  Queen,  alone,  unprotected,  in  that  arcade  full 
of  people!  I  was  on  the  point  of  following  her, 
from  professional  habit,  forgetting  that  I  was  at 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       167 

Milan  not  as  an  official,  but  as  a  private  tourist. 
A  still  more  important  reason  stopped  my  display 
of  zeal:  it  was  too  late;  the  charming  vision  was 
lost  in  the  crowd. 

2. 

The  next  evening,  I  was  dining  at  a  friend's 
house,  where  the  guests  belonged,  for  the  most  part, 
to  the  official  and  political  world.  When  I  related 
my  adventure  and  expressed  my  astonishment  at 
having  met  the  sovereign  making  her  own  pur- 
chases in  town,  accompanied  by  a  stern  lady-in- 
waiting  : 

"Did  that  surprise  you?"  I  was  asked.  "It  does 
not  surprise  us  at  all.  One  of  our  haughty  prin- 
cesses of  the  House  of  Savoy  said,  sarcastically,  that 
we  had  gone  back  to  the  times  when  kings  used  to 
mate  with  shepherdesses.  This  was  merely  a  dis- 
respectful sally.  The  truth  is  that  both  our  King 
and  Queen  have  very  simple  tastes  and  that  they 
like  to  live  as  ordinary  people,  in  so  far  as  their 
obligations  permit  them.  Let  me  give  you  an  in- 
stance in  point;  whenever  they  come  to  Milan — 
and  they  never  stay  for  more  than  two  or  three 
days — they  go  to  the  royal  palace,  of  course,  but, 
instead  of  living  in  the  state  apartments  and  bring- 
ing a  large  number  of  servants,  they  prefer  to  oc- 
cupy just  a  few  rooms,  have  their  meals  sent  in 


168     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

from  the  Ristorante  Cova  and  order  the  dishes  to 
be  all  brought  up  at  the  same  time  and  placed  on 
a  sideboard.  Then  they  dismiss  the  servants,  shut 
the  doors  and  wait  upon  themselves." 

In  our  sunny  countries — I  can  speak  for  them,  as 
a  Corsican — we  love  pomp  and  ceremony.  I 
seemed  to  observe  in  the  friends  who  gave  me  this 
striking  illustration  of  the  royal  simplicity  a  touch 
of  bitterness,  perhaps  of  regret.  Remarks  that 
came  to  my  ears  later  led  me  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  aristocracy,  if  not  the  people,  disapproved  of 
their  sovereign's  democratic  tendencies,  which  con- 
trasted with  the  ways  of  the  old  court,  of  which 
Queen  Margherita  had  been  the  soul  and  still  re- 
mained the  living  and  charming  embodiment. 

No  doubt.  Queen  Helena's  "manner"  was  en- 
tirely different  from  that  of  Margherita  of  Savoy, 
whose  highly-developed  and  refined  culture,  whose 
apposite  wit,  whose  engaging  mode  of  address, 
built  up  of  shades  that  appealed  to  delicate  minds, 
had  attracted  to  the  Quirinal  the  pick  of  intellec- 
tual, artistic  and  literary  Italy  and  held  it  bound  in 
fervent  admiration.  Educated  at  the  court  of  her 
father,  Prince  Nicholas,  Helena  of  Montenegro 
had  grown  up  amid  the  austere  scenery  of  her 
native  land,  in  constant  contact  with  the  rugged 
simplicity  of  the  Montenegrin  highlanders;  her 
wide-open  child-eyes  had  never  rested  on  other  than 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       169 

grave  and  manly  faces;  her  girlhood  was  decked 
not  with  fairy-tales,  but  with  the  old,  wild  legends 
of  the  mountains,  or  else,  with  epics  extolling  the 
heroism  of  those  who,  in  the  days  of  old,  had  driven 
the  foreign  invader  from  the  valleys  of  Antivari  or 
the  lofty  plateaux  of  Cetinje.  At  the  age  of 
twelve,  she  was  sent  to  St.  Petersburg  to  finish  her 
studies.  There,  in  the  promiscuous  intercourse  of 
a  convent  confined  to  young  ladies  of  gentle  birth, 
she  had  known  the  charm  of  friendships  that  re- 
moved all  differences  of  social  rank  between  her 
fellow  schoolgirls  and  herself,  while  her  mind 
opened  to  the  somewhat  melancholy  beauties  of  Slav 
literature.  On  returning  to  her  country,  she  en- 
joyed, in  the  fulness  of  an  independence  wholly  un- 
disturbed by  the  demand  of  etiquette,  the  healthy 
delights  of  an  open-air  life,  which  she  divided  be- 
tween water-colour  drawing,  in  which  she  excelled, 
and  sport  in  which  she  showed  herself  fearless. 
;  When,  therefore,  she  saw  Italy  for  the  first  time 
in  1895  and  saw  it  through  the  gates  of  Venice, 
where  her  father  had  taken  her  on  the  occasion  of 
an  exhibition ;  when,  one  evening,  in  the  midst  of  the 
fanciful  and  to  her  novel  scene  of  the  lagoon  ar- 
rayed in  its  holiday  attire,  she  saw  the  homage 
of  a  glowing  admiration  in  the  eyes  of  the  then 
Prince  of  Naples,  it  will  readily  be  conceived  that 
she  was  flurried  and  a  little  dazzled.  When,  lastly, 


170     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

in  the  following  year,  she  bade  farewell  to  her 
craggy  mountains  and  to  the  proud  Highlanders,  the 
companions  of  her  childhood,  and  saw  the  gay  and 
enthusiastic  nation  of  Italy  hastening  to  welcome 
her,  the  twenty-years-old  bride,  with  the  hopes  and 
promises  which  she  brought  with  her,  it  will  be 
understood  that  she  at  first  experienced  a  sense  of 
confusion  and  shyness. 

The  shyness,  I  am  told,  has  never  completely  worn 
off.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  absence  of  more 
brilliant  outward  qualities,  Queen  Helena  has  dis- 
played admirable  domestic  virtues;  she  has  known 
how  to  be  a  queen  in  all  that  this  function  implies 
in  regard  to  noble  and  delicate  missions  of  devotion 
and  goodness  to  the  poor  and  lowly.  And  she  has 
done  better  than  that :  she  has  realised  her  engross- 
ing duties  as  wife  and  mother;  and  they  are  sweet 
and  dear  to  her. 

Had  this  been  otherwise,  the  King's  character, 
which  is  quick  to  take  offence,  and  his  jealous  fond- 
ness would  have  suffered  cruelly.  He  too  is  shy, 
he  too  is  a  man  of  domestic  habits,  who  has  always 
avoided  society  and  pleasure.  Possessing  none  of 
the  physical  qualities  that  attract  the  crowd,  en- 
dowed with  an  unimaginative,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  reflective  and  studious  mind,  remark- 
ably well-informed,  highly-intelligent,  passionately 
enamoured  of  social  problems  and  the  exact 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       171 

sciences,  none  was  readier  than  he  to  enjoy  the 
charm  of  a  peaceful  home  which  he  had  not  known 
during  his  youth.  Touching,  in  fact,  though  the 
attachment  between  the  son  and  mother  was,  they 
nevertheless  remained  separated  by  the  differences 
in  their  character,  their  temperament  and  their 
ideas.  Whereas  Queen  Margherita  kept  all  her  en- 
thusiasm for  art  and  literature,  the  Prince  of  Naples 
displayed,  if  not  a  repugnance,  at  least  a  complete 
indifference  to  such  matters.  When  he  was  only 
ten  years  of  age,  he  said  to  his  piano-mistress, 
Signora  Cerasoli,  who  was  appointed  by  his  mother 
and  who  vainly  struggled  to  instil  the  first  princi- 
ples of  music  into  his  mind : 

"Don't  you  think  that  twenty  trumpets  are  more 
effective  than  that  piano  of  yours?" 

To  make  amends,  he  showed  from  his  earliest 
youth  a  marked  predilection  for  military  science. 
He  had  the  soul  of  a  soldier  and  submitted,  without 
a  murmur,  to  the  strict  discipline  imposed  upon  him 
by  his  tutor,  Colonel  Osio.  He  is  still  fond  of  re- 
lating, as  one  of  the  pleasantest  memories  of  his 
life,  the  impression  which  he  felt  on  the  day  when 
King  Humbert  first  entrusted  him  with  the  com- 
mand of  a  company  of  foot  at  the  annual  review 
of  the  Roman  garrison: 

"The  excitement  interfered  so  greatly  with  my 
power  of  sight,"  he  says,  "that  the  only  people  I 


172     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

recognised  in  the  cheering  crowd  were  my  dentist 
and  my  professor  of  mathematics." 

His  keen  love  of  the  army  became  manifest  when, 
as  heir  apparent,  he  received  the  command  of  the 
army-corps  of  Naples.  Frivolous  and  light-headed 
Neapolitan  society  looked  forward  to  receiving  a 
worldly-minded  prince  and  rejoiced  accordingly; 
but  it  soon  discovered  its  mistake ;  the  prince,  scorn- 
ing pleasure,  devoted  himself  exclusively  to  his  pro- 
fession and  left  his  barracks  only  to  go  straight  back 
to  the  Capodimonte  Palace,  where  he  spent  his  spare 
time  in  perfecting  himself  in  the  study  of  military 
tactics. 

When,  at  last,  the  tragedy  of  Monza  called  him 
suddenly  to  the  throne,  the  manliness  of  his  atti- 
tude, the  firmness  of  his  character  and  the  soberness 
of  his  mind  impressed  the  uneasy  and  scattered 
world  of  politics.  He  insisted  upon  drawing  up  his 
first  proclamation  to  the  Italian  people  with  his  own 
hand  and  in  it  proved  himself  a  man  of  the  times, 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  needs  and  aspira- 
tions of  modern  Italy. 

"I  know,"  he  said  to  Signor  Crispi,  a  few  days 
after  his  accession,  "I  know  all  the  responsibilities  of 
my  station  and  I  would  not  presume  to  think  that  I 
can  remedy  the  present  difficulties  with  my  own  un- 
aided strength.  But  I  am  convinced  that  those  dif- 
ficulties all  spring  from  one  cause.  In  Italy,  there 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       173 

are  few  citizens  who  perform  their  duty  strictly: 
there  is  too  much  indolence,  too  much  laxity. 
Italy  is  at  a  serious  turning-point  in  her  history; 
she  is  eaten  up  with  politics;  she  must  absolutely 
direct  her  energies  towards  the  development  of  her 
economic  resources.  Her  industries  will  save  her 
by  improving  her  financial  position  and  employing 
all  the  hands  at  present  lying  idle  in  an  inactivity 
that  has  lasted  far  too  long.  I  shall  practise  what  I 
preach  by  scrupulously  following  my  trade  as  king 
and  by  encouraging  initiative,  especially  by  en- 
couraging the  social  and  economic  evolution  of  the 
country." 

Let  me  do  him  this  justice:  he  has  kept  his 
promises.  A  will  soon  made  itself  conspicuous 
under  that  frail  exterior.  He  applied  to  the  con- 
sideration of  every  subject  the  ardour  of  an  in- 
satiable curiosity  and  his  wish  to  know  things  cor- 
rectly and  thoroughly.  He  studied  the  confused 
conditions  of  Italian  parliamentary  life  with  as 
much  perseverance  as  the  social  question.  It  is 
possible  that,  by  democratising  the  monarchy,  he  has 
forestalled  popular  movements  which,  in  a  country 
so  passionate  in  its  opinions  and  so  exuberant  in  its 
manifestations  as  Italy,  might  have  caused  irrepa- 
rable disorders  and  delayed  the  magnificent  prog- 
ress of  the  nation. 

Pondering  over  these  serious  problems,  his  vigi- 


174.     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

lant  and  studious  mind  sought  relaxation  and,  at 
times,  consolation  and  encouragement  for  its  rough 
task  in  the  ever-smiling  intimacy  of  the  home.  It 
resolved  that  this  home  should  be  impenetrable  to 
others,  so  impenetrable  that  it  excluded  the 
sovereign  and  a  fortiori  his  official  "set":  the 
husband  and  father  alone  are  admitted.  This  is 
the  secret  of  that  close  union  which  has  made  people 
say  of  the  Italian  royal  couple  that  they  represent 
the  perfect  type  of  a  middle-class  household  which 
found  its  way  by  accident  into  a  king's  palace. 

I  have  tried  to  give  a  psychological  picture  of 
the  two  sovereigns  arising  from  the  impressions 
which  I  picked  up  in  the  course  of  my  trip  to  Italy. 
Their  visit  to  Paris  was  destined  to  confirm  its  ac- 
curacy and  to  complete  its  details. 

3. 

I  little  thought,  on  the  afternoon  when  I  caught 
so  unexpected  a  glimpse  of  Queen  Helena  in  a 
Milan  glove-shop,  that,  two  years  later,  I  was  to 
have  the  honour  of  attending  both  Her  Majesty 
and  the  King  during  their  journey  to  France.  It 
was  their  first  visit  to  Paris  in  state;  and  our  gov- 
ernment attached  considerable  importance  to  this 
event,  which  accentuated  the  scope  of  what  Prince 
von  Billow,  at  that  time  chancellor  of  the  German 


u. 
o 

UJ 

w 

D 
O 

Q 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       175 

Empire,  called,  none  too  good-humouredly,  Italy's 
"little  waltz"  with  France. 

The  letter  of  appointment  which  I  received  at  the 
beginning  of  October,  1903,  directed  me  to  go  at 
once  and  await  our  guests  at  the  Italian  frontier  and 
bring  them  safely  to  Paris.  It  was  pitch-dark, 
on  a  cold,  wet  night,  when  the  royal  train  steamed 
out  of  the  Mont-Cenis  tunnel  and  pulled  up  at  the 
platform  of  the  frontier-station  of  Modany  where 
I  had  been  pacing  up  and  down  for  over  an  hour. 
My  curiosity  was  stimulated,  I  must  confess,  by  the 
recollection  of  the  episode  in  the  Galleria  Vittorio 
Emmanuele  at  Milan.  Amused  by  the  chance 
which  was  about  to  bring  me  face  to  face  with  "the 
lady  with  the  gloves,"  I  was  longing  to  know  if  my 
first  impressions  were  correct  and  if  the  features 
which  I  had  conjectured,  rather  than  perceived,  be- 
hind the  blue  veil  were  really  those  which  I  should 
soon  be  able  to  view  in  the  full  light. 

The  blinds  of  the  eight  royal  railway-carriages 
were  lowered;  not  a  sign  betrayed  the  presence  of 
living  beings  in  the  silent  train. 

After  a  long  moment,  a  carriage-door  opened 
and  a  giant,  in  a  long  pale-grey  cavalry  cloak  and  a 
blue  forage-cap  braided  with  scarlet  piping  and 
adorned  with  a  gold  tassel,  stepped  out  softly  and, 
making  straight  for  me,  said : 

"Hush!    They  are  asleep." 


176     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  first  of- 
ficial reception  had  been  arranged  to  take  place  at 
Dijon,  where  we  were  due  to  arrive  at  nine  o'clock. 
I  took  my  seat  in  the  train  and  we  started.  Not 
everybody  was  asleep.  In  the  last  carriage,  which 
was  reserved  for  the  servants,  a  number  of  maids, 
wrapped  in  those  beautiful  red  shawls  which  you  see 
on  the  quays  at  Naples,  were  chattering  away,  with 
the  greatest  animation,  in  Italian.  The  echoes  of 
that  musical  and  expressive  language  reached  the 
compartment  in  which  I  was  trying  to  doze  and 
called  up  memories  of  my  childhood  in  my  old 
Corsican  heart. 

It  was  broad  daylight  and  we  were  nearing  Dijon 
when  Count  Guicciardini,  the  King's  master  of  the 
horse,  came  to  fetch  me  to  present  me  to  the 
sovereigns. 

Two  black,  grave,  proud  and  gentle  eyes ;  a  fore- 
head framed  in  a  wealth  of  dark  hair ;  beautiful  and 
delicate  features;  a  smile  that  produced  two  little 
dimples  on  either  side  of  the  mouth;  a  tall,  slight 
figure;  I  at  once  recognised  the  lady  of  Milan  in 
the  charming  sovereign,  stately  and  shy,  who  came 
stepping  towards  me.  It  was  the  same  little  white 
hand  that  she  put  out  again,  this  time,  however,  that 
I  might  press  upon  it  the  homage  of  my  respectful 
welcome.  Should  I  recall  the  incident  of  the 
gloves?  I  had  it  on  my  lips  to  do  so.  I  was  afraid 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       177 

of  appearing  ridiculous;  of  course,  she  did  not  re- 
member. I  said  nothing. 

"Delighted,  M.  Paoli,  delighted  to  know  you!" 
exclaimed  the  King,  fixing  me  with  his  piercing 
eyes  and  shaking  me  vigorously  by  the  hand. 

"Sir." 

"But  stay;  Paoli  is  an  Italian  name!" 

"Very  nearly,  Sir;  I  am  a  Corsican." 

"A  fellow-countryman  of  Napoleon's,  then?  I 
congratulate  you !" 

Our  conversation,  that  morning,  was  limited  to 
these  few  words.  From  Dijon  onwards,  the 
journey  assumed  an  official  character;  and  I  lost 
sight  of  the  King  and  Queen  amid  the  crowd  of 
glittering  uniforms.  However,  a  few  minutes  be- 
fore our  arrival  at  Paris,  I  surprised  them  both 
standing  against  a  window-pane,  the  Queen  in  an 
exquisite  costume  of  pale-grey  velvet  and  silk,  the 
King  in  the  uniform  of  an  Italian  general,  with  the 
broad  ribbon  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  across  his 
chest.  While  watching  the  landscape,  they  ex- 
changed remarks  that  appeared  to  me  to  be  of  an 
affectionate  nature. 

Meanwhile,  a  sedate  footman  entered  and  dis- 
creetly placed  upon  the  table,  behind  the  sovereigns, 
an  extraordinary  object  that  attracted  my  eyes. 
It  looked  like  an  enormous  bird  buried  in  its 
feathers;  it  was  at  one  and  the  same  time  resplen- 


178     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

dent  and  voluminous.  I  came  closer  and  then  saw 
that  it  was  a  helmet,  just  a  helmet,  covered  with 
feathers  of  fabulous  dimensions.  I  was  not  the 
only  one,  for  that  matter,  to  be  astonished  at  the 
imposing  proportions  of  this  head-dress;  whenever 
the  King  donned  it  in  Paris,  it  met  with  a  huge  suc- 
cess; it  towered  above  the  crowds,  the  livery-serv- 
ants' cockades,  the  soldiers'  bayonets;  it  became 
the  target  of  every  kodak. 

The  Queen's  shyness?  The  occasion  soon  of- 
fered to  observe  it;  in  fact,  that  solemn  entry  into 
Paris  was  enough  to  make  any  young  woman, 
queen  or  no  queen,  shy.  The  authorities  wished  it 
to  be  as  grand  as  possible  and  sent  the  procession 
down  the  Avenue  du  Bois  de  Boulogne  and 
the  Champs-Elysees.  No  doubt,  the  charming 
sovereign  was  deeply  impressed  and  a  little  be- 
wildered; but  the  warmth  of  her  welcome,  the 
heartiness  of  the  cheering  afforded  her,  as  well  as 
her  consort,  a  visible  pleasure ;  and,  from  that  very 
first  day,  she  was  full  of  pretty  thoughts  and  he  of 
generous  movements.  At  a  certain  moment,  she 
took  a  rose  from  a  bouquet  of  rose s  de  France  which 
she  was  carrying  and  gave  it  to  a  little  girl  who 
had  thrust  herself  close  up  to  the  carriage.  He,  on 
the  other  hand,  walked  straight  to  the  colours  of 
the  battalion  of  Zouaves  who  were  presenting  arms 
in  the  court-yard  of  the  Foreign  Office  and  raised 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       179 

to  his  lips  the  folds  of  the  standard  on  which 
were  inscribed  two  names  dear  to  Italian  hearts 
and  French  memories  alike:  Magenta  and  Sol- 
ferino. 

The  Foreign  Office  was  turned  into  a  "royal 
palace"  for  the  occasion  of  this  visit.  While  the 
government  had  set  its  wits  to  work  to  decorate  in 
the  most  sumptuous  style  the  apartments  which 
the  King  and  Queen  of  Italy  were  to  occupy  on 
the  first  floor,  Madame  Delcasse,  the  wife  of  the 
foreign  minister,  on  her  side,  did  her  best  to  relieve 
the  somewhat  cold  and  solemn  appearance  of  the 
rooms.  With  this  object,  she  procured  photo- 
graphs of  the  little  Princesses  Yolanda  and  Ma- 
falda  and  placed  them  in  handsome  frames  on  the 
Queen's  dressing-table.  The  Queen  was  greatly 
touched  by  the  delicate  attention.  On  entering  the 
room,  she  uttered  a  spontaneous  exclamation  that 
betrayed  all  a  mother's  fondness : 

"Oh,  the  children!     How  delightful!" 

The  children!  How  often  those  words  returned 
to  her  lips  during  her  stay  in  Paris !  She  spoke  of 
them  incessantly,  she  spoke  of  them  to  everybody, 
to  Madame  Loubet,  to  Madame  Delcasse,  to  the 
Italian  ambassadress,  even  to  the  two  French  wait- 
ing-maids attached  to  her  service : 

"Yolanda,  the  elder,  with  her  black  hair  and  her 
black  eyes  is  like  me,"  she  would  explain.  "Ma- 


180     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

falda,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  image  of  her  father. 
They  both  have  such  good  little  hearts." 

Her  maternal  anxiety  was  also  manifested  in  the 
impatience  with  which  she  used  to  wait  for  news 
of  the  princesses.  Every  evening,  when  she  re- 
turned to  the  Foreign  Office  after  a  day  of  drives 
and  visits  in  different  parts  of  Paris,  her  first  words 
were: 

"My  wire?" 

And,  a  little  nervously,  she  opened  the  telegram 
that  was  dispatched  to  her  daily  from  San  Rossore, 
where  "the  children"  were,  and  greedily  read  the 
bulletin  of  reassuring  news  which  it  contained. 

On  the  morning  after  her  arrival,  she  rang  for 
a  maid  as  soon  as  she  woke  up : 

"I  have  an  old  friend  in  Paris,"  she  said,  "whom 
I  want  to  see;  it  is  my  old  French  mistress,  Mile. 

E .  She  lives  on  the  Quai  Voltaire;  please 

have  her  sent  for." 

An  attache  of  the  office  hastened  off  at  once  and, 
in  half  an  hour,  returned  triumphantly  with  Mile. 

E ,  a  charming  old  lady  who  had  once  been 

governess  to  Princess  Helena  of  Montenegro  at 
Cetinje.  She  had  not  seen  her  for  ten  years; 
and  the  reader  can  imagine  her  surprise  and  her 
confusion.  The  mistress  and  pupil  threw  them- 
selves into  each  other's  arms.  And,  when  Mile. 
E persisted  in  addressing  the  Queen  as 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       181 

"Your  Majesty,"  the  latter  interrupted  her  and 
said: 

"Why  'Your  Majesty'?  Call  me  Helena,  as  in 
the  old  days." 

The  authorities,  conforming  to  royal  usage,  had 
considered  it  the  proper  thing  to  prepare  two  dis- 
tinct suites  of  rooms,  one  for  the  King  and  one  for 
the  Queen,  separated  by  an  enormous  drawing- 
room.  Great  was  our  surprise  when,  on  the  follow- 
ing morning,  the  rumour  ran  through  the  passages 
of  the  Foreign  Office  that  the  King's  bed-room  had 
remained  untenanted.  Had  he  found  it  uncomfort- 
able? Did  he  not  like  the  room?  Everyone  be- 
gan to  be  anxious  and  it  was  felt  that  the  mystery 
must  be  cleared  up.  I  therefore  went  to  one  of  the 
officers  of  the  royal  suite,  took  him  aside  and,  while 
talking  of  "other  things,"  tried  to  question  him 
as  to  the  King's  impressions: 

"Is  His  Majesty  pleased  with  his  apartments?" 

"Delighted." 

"Was  there  anything  wrong  with  the  heating 
arrangements?" 

"No,  nothing." 

"Perhaps  the  King  does  not  care  for  the  bed  pro- 
vided for  His  Majesty's  use?  I  hear  it  is  very  soft 
and  comfortable,  in  addition  to  being  historic." 

"Not  at  all,  not  at  all;  I  believe  His  Majesty 
thought  everything  perfect." 


182     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Alas,  I  felt  that  my  hints  were  misunderstood! 
I  must  needs  speak  more  directly.  Without 
further  circumlocution,  therefore,  I  said : 

"The  fact  is,  it  appears  that  the  King  did  not 
deign  to  occupy  his  apartment." 

The  officer  looked  at  me  and  smiled : 

"But  the  King  never  leaves  the  Queen!"  he  ex- 
claimed. "With  us,  married  couples  seldom  have 
separate  rooms,  unless  when  they  are  on  bad  terms. 
And  that  is  not  the  case  here !  .  .  ." 

They  never  were  parted,  in  fact,  except  at  early 
breakfast.  The  King  was  accustomed  to  take 
cafe  au  lait,  the  Queen  chocolate;  the  first  was 
served  in  the  small  sitting-room,  where  the  King, 
already  dressed  in  his  general's  uniform,  went 
through  his  letters ;  the  second  in  the  boudoir,  where 
the  Queen,  in  a  pink  surat  dressing-gown,  trimmed 
with  lace,  devoted  two  hours,  after  her  toilet,  every 
morning,  to  her  correspondence,  or  to  the  very 
feminine  pleasure  of  trying  on  frocks  and  hats. 

I  twice  again  had  the  honour  of  seeing  her  shop- 
ping, as  on  a  former  celebrated  occasion;  but  this 
time  I  accompanied  her  in  the  course  of  my  pro- 
fessional duties.  She  bought  no  gloves,  but  made 
up  for  it  by  purchases  of  linen,  jewels,  numerous 
knick-knacks  and  toys ;  and  one  would  have  thought 
that  she  was  buying  those  china  dolls,  with  their 
tiny  sets  of  tea-things,  for  herself,  so  great  was 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       183 

the  child-like  joy  which  she  showed  in  their  selec- 
tion. 

"This  is  for  Yolanda;  this  is  for  Mafalda,"  she 
said,  as  she  pointed  to  the  objects  that  were  to  be 
placed  on  one  side. 

I  saw  her  for  the  first  time  grave  and  thoughtful 
at  the  Palace  at  Versailles,  which  she  and  the  King 
visited  in  the  company  of  M.  and  Madame  Loubet. 
I  think  that  she  must  have  retained  a  delightful 
recollection  of  this  excursion  to  the  palace  of  our 
kings,  an  excursion  which  left  a  lively  impression 
on  my  mind.  It  seemed  as  though  Nature  her- 
self had  conspired  to  accentuate  its  charm.  The 
ancestral  park  was  as  it  were  shrouded  in  the  soft 
rays  of  the  expiring  autumn :  the  trees  crowned  their 
sombre  tops  with  a  few  belated  leaves  of  golden 
brown ;  the  distances  were  mauve,  like  lilac  in  April ; 
and  the  breeze  that  blew  from  the  west  scattered 
the  water  of  the  fountains  and  changed  in  into 
feathery  tufts  of  vapour. 

The  sovereigns,  escorted  by  the  distinguished 
keeper  of  the  palace,  M.  de  Noblac,  first  visited  the 
state  apartments,  stopping  for  some  time  before  the 
portraits  of  the  princess  and  princesses  of  the  House 
of  France.  And,  in  those  great  rooms  filled  with 
so  many  precious  memories,  Queen  Helena  listened 
silently  and  eagerly  to  the  keeper's  explanations. 
She  lingered  more  particularly  in  the  private 


184     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

apartments  of  Marie  Antoinette,  where  the  most 
trifling  objects  excited  her  curiosity;  obviously  her 
imagination  as  a  woman  and  a  queen  took  pleasure 
in  this  feminine  and  royal  past.  Sometimes,  obey- 
ing a  discreet  and  spontaneous  impulse,  when  the 
overpowering  memory  of  some  tragic  episode 
weighed  too  heavily  upon  our  silent  thoughts,  she 
pressed  herself  timidly  against  the  King,  as  a  little 
girl  might  do.  And  once  we  heard  her  whisper: 
"Ah,  if  things  could  speak!" 

4. 

And  the  King?  The  King,  while  appreciating, 
as  an  expert,  the  archaeological  beauties  which  we 
had  to  show  him  and  the  imperishable  evidences  of 
our  history,  did  not  share  the  Queen's  enthusiasm 
for  our  artistic  treasures.  When  coming  to  Paris, 
he  had  looked  forward  to  two  chief  pleasures :  to  see 
our  soldiers  and  to  visit  the  Musee  Monetaire,  or 
collection  of  coins  at  our  national  mint. 

As  is  well-known,  Victor  Emanuel  is  considered 
— and  rightly  so — an  exceedingly  capable  numis- 
matist. He  is  very  proud  of  his  title  as  honorary 
president  of  the  Italian  Numismatical  Society  and, 
in  1897,  undertook  the  task  of  drawing  up  the  cata- 
logue of  the  authentic  old  coinages  of  Italy.  He 
derived  the  necessary  materials  for  his  work  from 
his  own  collection,  which  at  that  time  consisted  of 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       185 

about  forty  thousand  pieces.  Now,  of  the  two 
hundred  and  sixty  types  of  Italian  coinage  known, 
barely  one-half  could  lay  claim  to  absolute  genuine- 
ness; and  the  work  which  he  had  to  perform  in 
bringing  them  together,  completing  them  and 
authenticating  them  was  no  light  one. 

A  rather  interesting  story  is  told  of  the  manner 
in  which  the  King,  when  still  little  more  than  a 
child,  acquired  a  taste  for  the  science  of  numis- 
matics. One  day,  he  received  a  soldo  bearing  the 
head  of  Pope  Pius  IX,  which  he  kept.  A  little 
later,  finding  another,  he  added  it  to  the  first;  and, 
in  this  way,  he  ended  by  collecting  fifteen.  Mean- 
while, his  father,  King  Humbert,  presented  him 
with  some  sixty  pieces  of  old  copper  money;  and 
he  thus  formed  the  nucleus  of  his  collection. 

Thenceforward,  at  every  anniversary,  on  his 
birthday,  at  Christmas,  at  Easter,  the  different 
members  of  the  royal  family,  who  used  to  chaff  him 
about  his  new  passion,  gave  him  coins  or  medals. 
He  made  important  purchases  on  his  own  account ; 
and,  finally,  in  1900,  he  doubled  the  dimensions 
of  his  collection  at  one  stroke  by  buying  the  in- 
estimable treasure  of  coins  belonging  to  the  Mar- 
chese  Marignoli,  which  was  on  the  point  of  being 
dispersed  to  the  four  corners  of  the  earth. 

He  admits,  nevertheless,  that  the  piece  that  repre- 
sents the  highest  value  in  his  eyes  is  a  gold  Monte- 


negrin  coin  struck  in  the  early  days  of  the  Petro- 
vich  dynasty  and  presented  to  him  by  Princess 
Helena  of  Montenegro  at  the  time  of  their  engage- 
ment. This  coin  is  so  rare  that  only  one  specimen 
is  known  to  exist,  apart  from  that  in  the  possession 
of  Victor  Emanuel  III;  it  is  in  the  numismatical 
gallery  at  Vienna. 

The  King,  moreover,  has  enriched  his  collection 
lately  with  an  exceedingly  rare  series  of  coins  of  the 
Avignon  popes.  They  were  sold  at  auction  at 
Frankfort;  and  a  spirited  contest  took  place  be- 
tween buyers  acting  respectively  on  behalf  of  King 
Victor  Emanuel,  the  Pope  and  the  director  of  our 
own  gallery  of  medals. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  a  very  special  interest  that 
he  visited  our  mint,  whose  collection  is  famed 
throughout  Europe.  The  director,  knowing  that 
he  had  to  do  with  a  connoisseur,  had  taken  a  great 
deal  of  trouble ;  in  fact,  I  believe  that  he  intended  to 
"stagger"  the  King  with  his  erudition.  But  he 
reckoned  without  his  host,  or  rather  his  guest ;  and 
instead  of  the  expert  dazzling  the  King,  it  was  the 
King  who  astonished  the  expert.  He  surprised 
him  to  such  good  purpose,  with  the  accuracy  and 
extent  of  his  information  on  the  subject  of  coins, 
that  the  learned  director  had  to  own  himself  beaten : 

"We  are  school-boys  beside  Your  Majesty,"  he 
confessed,  in  all  humility. 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       187 

And  I  think  that  this  was  something  more  than 
a  courtier's  phrase. 

The  King,  as  I  have  said,  takes  a  keen  interest  in 
military  matters.  He  displayed  it  on  the  occasion 
of  the  review  of  the  Paris  garrison.  Even  as  he 
had  appeared  bored  at  the  concert  at  the  Elysee  on 
the  previous  evening,  so  now  he  seemed  to  enjoy 
the  impressive  spectacle  which  we  were  able  to  offer 
him  on  the  drill-ground  at  Vincennes.  He  wished 
to  ride  along  the  front  of  the  troops  on  horse-back 
and  had  brought  with  him  from  Italy,  for  this  pur- 
pose, his  own  saddle,  a  very  handsome,  richly- 
caparisoned,  military  saddle.  The  governor  of 
Paris  having  lent  him  a  charger,  he  proved  himself 
a  first-rate  horseman,  for  the  animal,  unnerved  at 
having  to  carry  a  harness  heavier  than  that  to 
which  it  was  accustomed,  could  hit  upon  nothing  bet- 
ter than  to  make  a  display  of  its  ill-temper,  regard- 
less of  the  august  quality  of  its  rider.  It  was  the 
worst  day's  work  that  that  horse  ever  did  in  its  life, 
and  it  had  to  recognise  that  it  had  found  its  master. 

After  making  a  thorough  inspection  of  the  troops 
by  the  side  of  the  minister  of  war,  the  King  ex- 
pressed a  desire  to  examine  the  outfit  of  one  of  the 
soldiers;  and  a  private  was  ordered  to  fall  out  of 
the  ranks.  Victor  Emanuel  took  up  the  soldier's 
knapsack,  handled  it,  looked  through  it  and  made  a 
movement  as  though  to  buckle  it  to  the  man's 


188     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

shoulders  again  himself,  whereat  the  worthy  little 
pioupiou,  quite  scared  and  red  with  dismay,  cried: 

"Oh,  no,  thanks,  mon — mon— 

But  the  poor  fellow,  who  had  never  even  spoken 
to  a  general,  had  no  notion  how  to  address  a  king! 

Thereupon  the  King,  greatly  amused,  made  a 
charming  reply: 

"Call  me  what  your  forebears,  the  French 
soldiers  in  1859,  called  my  grandfather  on  the  night 
of  the  battle  of  Palestro;  call  me  mon  caporal!" 

Victor  Emanuel  has  too  practical  and  matter-of- 
fact  a  mind  to  be  what  is  known  as  a  man  of  senti- 
ment. Nevertheless,  I  saw  him  betray  a  real  emo- 
tion when  he  was  taken,  on  the  following  day,  to 
visit  the  tomb  of  Napoleon  I.  The  tomb  was 
surrounded  by  six  old  pensioners  carrying  lighted 
torches.  There  were  but  few  people  there ;  the  fit- 
ful flames  of  the  torches  cast  their  fantastic  gleams 
upon  the  imperial  sarcophagus;  and  the  invisible 
presence  of  the  Great  Conqueror  hovered  over  us: 
it  seemed  as  though  he  would  suddenly  rise  bodily 
out  of  that  yawning  gulf,  that  coffin  of  marble, 
dressed  in  his  grey  overcoat  and  his  immemorial 
hat. 

During  a  long  silence,  the  King  stood  and 
dreamt,  with  bowed  head.  When  we  left  the 
chapel,  he  was  dreaming  still. 

I  had  another  striking  picture  of  Victor  Emanuel 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       189 

III  during  the  day's  shooting  with  which  M.  Loubet 
provided  him  in  the  preserves  at  Rambouillet.  The 
King,  whose  love  of  sport  equals  his  passion  for 
numismatics,  is  a  first-rate  shot.  He  aims  at  a 
great  height,  is  careful  of  his  cartridges  and  rarely 
misses  a  bird.  According  to  custom,  he  was  fol- 
lowed at  Rambouillet  by  a  keeper  carrying  a  sec- 
ond gun,  loaded,  of  course,  in  advance. 

Now  it  happened  that  the  King,  seeing  a  flock 
of  pheasants,  began  by  discharging  both  barrels 
and  bringing  down  a  brace  of  birds.  He  then  took 
the  other  gun,  which  the  keeper  held  ready  for 
him,  put  it  to  his  shoulder  and  pulled  the  trigger; 
both  shots  missed  fire.  The  keeper  had  forgotten 
to  load  the  gun!  Picture  the  rage  of  the  sovereign, 
who,  disconsolate  at  losing  his  pheasants,  began  to 
rate  the  culprit  harshly!  The  unfortunate  keeper, 
feeling  more  dead  than  alive,  did  not  know  what 
excuse  to  make;  and  he  looked  upon  his  place  as 
fairly  lost. 

Then  the  King,  guessing  the  man's  unspoken 
fears,  abruptly  changed  his  tone: 

"Never  mind,"  he  said.  "There's  no  forgiving 
you;  but  I  shall  not  say  anything  about  it." 

The  King  was  obviously  delighted  with  his  day's 
sport.  Yet,  among  the  many  attentions  which  we 
paid  our  guests  during  their  brief  stay  in  Paris, 
one  surprise  which  we  prepared  for  them  was,  if 


190     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

I  am  not  mistaken,  more  acceptable  to  them — and 
especially  to  the  Queen — than  any  other.  This 
surprise  consisted  in  the  recital  before  Their  Maj- 
esties, by  our  great  actress,  Madame  Bartet,  of  the 
Comedie  Francaise,  of  an  unpublished  poem  from 
the  pen  of  the  Queen  herself. 

Helena  of  Montenegro  had  been  a  poet,  in  fact, 
in  her  leisure  hours.  At  the  time  when  she  was 
engaged  to  be  married,  she  wrote  a  poem  in  Rus- 
sian which  she  sent  to  a  St.  Petersburg  magazine, 
under  the  pseudonym  of  "Blue  Butterfly";  and 
the  magazine  printed  it  without  knowing  the  au- 
thor's real  name.  It  was  written  in  rhythmical 
prose;  and  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  procure  a 
copy  of  the  translation : 

VISION 

The  mother  said  to  her  daughter: 

"Wouldst  know  how  the  world  is  made?  Open  thine 
eyes." 

And  the  little  maid  opened  her  eyes.  She  saw  lordly 
and  towering  mountains,  she  saw  valleys  full  of  delights, 
she  saw  the  sun  which  shines  upon  and  gilds  all  things, 
she  saw  twinkling  stars  and  the  deep  billows  of  the  sea, 
she  saw  torrents  with  foaming  waters  and  flowers  with 
varied  perfumes,  she  saw  light-winged  birds  and  the  golden 
sheaves  of  the  harvest.  Then  she  closed  her  eyes. 

And  then  she  saw,  she  saw  the  fairest  thing  upon  this 
earth:  the  image  of  the  beloved  who  filled  her  heart,  the 


w 
o 

2 

s 

Ou 

2 
£ 

O 
£ 
O 


Uu 

o 

2 

UJ 
U4 

D 
O 

a 

2 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       191 

image  of  the  beloved  who  shone  within  her  soul,  the  image 
of  the  beloved  who  gave  his  love  in  return  for  the  love  that 
was  hers. 

This  charming  fragment  had  been  recovered  by 
a  collector  of  royal  poetry  some  time  before  the 
visit  of  the  Italian  sovereigns.  M.  Andre  Rivoire, 
one  of  our  finest  poets,  transposed  it  into  French 
verse;  and  M.  Loubet  delicately  caused  it  to  be  re- 
cited to  our  hosts  in  the  course  of  a  reception  given 
in  their  honour  at  the  Elysee.  That  evening,  the 
beautiful  Queen  enjoyed  a  two-fold  success,  as  a 
woman  and  as  a  poetess. 

5. 

The  unpretending  affability  of  the  royal  couple 
was  bound  to  win  the  affections  of  the  French 
people.  The  daily  more  enthusiastic  cheers  that 
greeted  them  in  their  drives  through  Paris  proved 
that  they  had  conquered  all  hearts. 

"It  is  astonishing,"  said  an  Italian  official  to  me, 
"but  they  are  even  more  popular  here  than  at 
home!" 

"That  must  be  because  they  show  themselves 
more,"  I  replied. 

At  the  risk  of  disappointing  the  reader,  I  am 
bound  to  confess  that  no  tragic  or  even  unpleasant 
incident  came  to  spoil  their  pleasure  or  their  peace 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

of  mind.  It  appeared  that  the  anarchist  gentry 
were  allowing  themselves  a  little  holiday. 

In  the  absence  of  the  traditional  plot,  we  had,  it 
is  true,  the  inevitable  shower  of  anonymous  letters 
and  even  some  that  were  signed.  The  Queen,  alas, 
had  done  much  to  encourage  epistolary  mendicants 
by  announcing  her  wish  that  replies  should  be  sent 
to  all  letters  asking  for  assistance  and  that,  in 
every  possible  case,  satisfaction  should  be  given  to 
the  writers.  The  result  was  that  all  the  poverty- 
stricken  Italians  with  whom  Paris  teems  gave  them- 
selves free  scope  to  their  hearts'  delight;  and  the 
usual  fraternity  of  French  begging-letter-writers — 
those  who  had  formerly  so  artlessly  striven  to  excite 
the  compassion  of  the  Shah  of  Persia — also  tried 
what  they  could  do. 

But  what  reply  was  it  possible  to  send  to  such  let- 
ters as  the  following  (I  have  kept  a  few  specimens)  ? 

"To  Her  Majesty  the  Queen  of  Italy. 

"Madame, — 

"We  are  a  young  married  couple,  honest,  but  poor. 
We  were  unable  to  have  a  honeymoon,  for  lack  of  money. 
It  would  be  our  dream  to  go  to  Italy,  which  is  said  to  be 
the  land  of  lovers.  We  thought  that  Your  Majesty,  lov- 
ing your  husband  as  you  do  and,  therefore,  knowing  what 
love  means,  might  consent  to  help  us  to  make  this  little 
journey.  We  should  want  500  francs ;  we  entreat  Your 
Majesty  to  lend  it  to  us.  When  my  husband  has  a  better 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       193 

situation — he  is  at  present  an  assistant  in  a  curiosity-shop 
— he  will  not  fail  to  repay  Your  Majesty  the  money. 
"Pray  accept  the  thanks,  Madame,  of 

"Your  Majesty's  respectful  and  grateful  servant, 

"MARIE  G— , 
"Paste  Restante  370, 
"PARIS." 

"To  His  Majesty  the  King  of  Italy. 
"Sir  — 

"I  am  a  young  painter  full  of  ambition  and  said  to 
be  not  devoid  of  talent.  I  am  very  anxious  to  see  Rome 
and  to  study  its  artistic  masterpieces.  Not  possessing 
the  necessary  means,  I  am  writing  to  ask  if  you  would  not 
give  me  an  employment  of  any  kind,  even  in  the  service  of 
the  royal  motor-cars  (for  I  know  how  to  drive  a  motor), 
so  that  I  may  be  enabled  in  my  spare  time,  to  visit  the 
monuments  and  picture-galleries  and  to  perfect  myself  in 
my  art. 

"Pray  accept,  etc. 

"Louis  S — , 

"At  the  Cafe  du  Capitate , 
"TOULOUSE." 

Here  is  a  letter  of  another  description: 

"To  Her  Majesty  Queen  Helena. 
"Madame, — 

"You  are  the  mother  of  two  pretty  babies:  for  this 
reason,  I  have  the  honour  of  sending  you  herewith  two 
boxes  of  lacteal  farinaceous  food,  of  my  own  invention, 
for  infants  cf  tender  years.  It  is  a  wonderful  strengthen- 


194     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

ing  and  tonic  diet  and  I  feel  that  I  am  doing  Your  Maj- 
esty a  service  in  sending  you  these  samples.  You  are  sure 
to  order  more. 

"In  the  hope  of  receiving  these  orders,  I  am, 
"Your  Majesty's  respectful  servant, 

"Da.  F.  J., 
"Rue  de  la  Liberte, 

"NlMES." 

These  few  specimens  of  correspondence  will  suf- 
fice to  give  an  idea  of  the  harmless  and  sometimes 
comical  literature  that  found  its  way  every  morn- 
ing into  the  royal  letter-bag.  I  must  not,  how- 
ever, omit  to  mention,  among  the  humorous  inci- 
dents that  marked  the  sovereign's  journey,  an 
amusing  mistake  which  occurred  on  the  day  of  their 
arrival  in  Paris. 

It  was  about  half -past  six  in  the  evening.  Our 
royal  guests  had  that  moment  left  the  Foreign  Of- 
fice, to  pay  their  first  official  visit  to  the  President 
of  the  Republic,  when  a  cab  stopped  outside  the 
strictly-guarded  gate.  An  old  gentleman,  very 
tall,  with  a  long  white  beard  and  very  simply 
dressed,  alighted  and  was  about  to  walk  in  with  a 
confident  step. 

Three  policemen  rushed  to  prevent  him : 
"Stop !"  they  cried.     "No  one  is  allowed  in  here." 
"Oh,"  said  the  stranger,  "but  I  want  to  see  the 
King  of  Italy!" 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  OF  ITALY       195 

"And  who  may  you  be?" 

"The  King  of  the  Belgians." 

They  refused  to  believe  him.  When  he  per- 
sisted, however,  they  went  in  search  of  an  official, 
who  at  once  came  and  proffered  the  most  abject 
apologies.  Picture  the  faces  of  the  policemen! 

The  King  and  Queen  of  Italy  stayed  only  three 
days  in  Paris,  as  I  have  said. 

"We  will  come  back  again,"  the  Queen  promised, 
when  she  stepped  into  the  train,  radiant  at  the  re- 
ception which  had  been  given  her. 

They  have  not  returned  hitherto.  True,  they 
passed  through  France,  in  the  following  year,  on 
their  way  to  England.  I  made  the  journey  with 
them;  but,  as  on  their  first  arrival  at  Modane,  the 
blinds  of  their  carriage  were  lowered.  They  re- 
mained down  throughout  the  journey.  Were  the 
royal  pair  asleep?  I  never  heard. 


VI 
GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES 


VI 
GEORGE  I,  KING  OE  THE  HELLENES 

1. 

IN  one  of  the  drawers  of  my  desk  lies  a  bundle 
of  letters  which  I  preserve  carefully,  adding 
to  it,  from  time  to  time,  when  a  fresh  letter 
arrives.  They  are  written  in  a  neat  and  dainty 
hand,  almost  a  woman's  hand ;  the  paper  is  of  a  very 
ordinary  quality  and  bears  no  crown  nor  mono- 
gram ;  and  the  emblem  stamped  on  the  red  wax  with 
which  the  envelopes  are  sealed  looks  as  though  it 
had  been  selected  on  purpose  to  baffle  indiscreet 
curiosity:  it  represents  a  head  of  Minerva  wearing 
her  helmet. 

And  yet  this  correspondence  is  very  interesting; 
and  I  believe  that  an  historian  would  attach  great 
value  to  it,  not  only  because  it  would  supply  him 
with  nice  particulars  concerning  certain  events  of 
our  own  time,  but  also  because  it  reveals  the  ex- 
quisite feeling  of  one  of  the  most  attractive  of 
sovereigns,  the  youthfulness  of  his  mind  and  the 
reasons  why  a  royal  crown  may  sometimes  seem 
heavy  even  under  the  radiant  skies  of  Greece. 

199 


200     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

It  is  nearly  twenty  years  since  I  first  met  the 
writer  of  those  letters,  the  King  of  the  Hellenes; 
and,  since  then,  I  have  watched  over  his  safety  on 
the  occasion  of  most  of  his  visits  to  France.  This 
long  acquaintance  enabled  me  to  win  his  gracious 
kindness,  while  he  has  gained  my  affectionate  de- 
yotion.  I  often  take  the  liberty  of  writing  to  him, 
when  he  is  in  his  own  dominions;  he  never  fails  to 
reply  with  regularity;  and  our  correspondence 
forms,  as  it  were,  a  sequel  to  our  familiar  talks,  full 
of  good-humour  and  charm,  begun  at  Aix-les-Bains, 
in  Paris,  or  in  the  train. 

It  would  be  puerile  to  state  that  King  George 
loves  France ;  the  frequency  of  his  visits  makes  the 
fact  too  obvious.  He  does  more  than  evince  a 
warm  admiration  for  our  country:  this  Danish 
prince,  who  has  worn  the  Greek  crown  for  more 
than  forty-six  years,  is,  with  his  brother-in-law, 
King  Edward  VII,  the  most  Parisian  of  our  for- 
eign guests.  His  Parisianism  shows  itself  not  only 
in  the  elegant  ease  with  which  he  speaks  our  lan- 
guage: it  is  seen  in  his  turn  of  mind,  which  is  es- 
sentially that  of  the  man  about  town,  and  in  his 
figure,  which  is  slender  and  strong,  tall  and  grace- 
ful, like  that  of  one  of  our  cavalry-officers.  The 
quick  shrewdness  that  lurks  behind  his  fair,  military 
moustache  is  also  peculiarly  French;  and  the  touch 
of  fun  which  is  emphasised  by  a  constant  twitching 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     201 

of  the  eyes  and  lips  and  which  finds  an  outlet  in 
felicitous  phrases  and  unexpected  sallies  is  just  of 
the  sort  that  makes  people  say  of  us  that  we  are 
the  most  satirical  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

King  George's  "fun,"  at  any  rate,  is  never  cruel; 
and,  if  his  chaff  sometimes  becomes  a  little  caustic, 
at  least  it  is  always,  if  I  may  say  so,  to  the  point. 

For  instance,  at  the  commencement  of  his  reign, 
when  he  found  himself  grappling  with  the  first  in- 
ternal difficulties,  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  parlia-* 
mentary  opposition,  which  was  very  anxious  for  the, 
fall  of  the  ministry  so  that  it  might  itself  take  of- 
Sce,  came  to  him  and  said,  with  false  and  deceitful 
melancholy : 

"Ah,  Sir,  if  you  only  had  a  minister!" 

"A  minister?"  replied  the  King,  with  feigned  sur- 
prise. "Why,  I  have  seven  at  least!" 

The  King  was  brought  up  in  the  admirable  school 
bf  simplicity,  rectitude  and  kindness  of  his  father, 
King  Christian,  and  was  made  familiar,  from  his 
early  youth,  with  all  the  tortuous  paths  of  the  po- 
litical maze.  When  the  fall  of  King  Otho  placed 
him,  by  the  greatest  of  accidents,  on  the  throne  of 
Greece,  he  brought  with  him  not  only  the  influence 
of  his  numberless  illustrious  alliances  and  the  fruits 
of  a  timely  experience  gained  in  that  marvellous 
observation-post  which  the  Court  of  Denmark  sup- 
plies: he  also  brought  the  qualities  of  his  cold  and 


202     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

well-balanced  northern  temperament  to  that  people 
which  does  not  require  the  stimulation  of  its  Patras 
wine  to  become  hot-headed. 

And  what  difficult  times  the  King  has  passed 
through! 

The  King  of  Saxony,  visiting  Corfu  one  day, 
said  to  him,  the  next  morning: 

"Upon  my  word,  it  must  be  charming  to  be  king 
of  this  paradise !" 

"You  must  never  repeat  that  wish,"  replied  King 
George,  without  hesitation.  "I  have  been  its  king 
for  thirty  years ;  and  speak  as  one  who  knows !" 

Events  that  have  followed  since  have  amply 
justified  the  bitterness  of  this  outburst,  which  I  find 
renewed  in  the  sovereign's  letters.  And  yet,  grave 
as  the  Greek  crisis  is  at  the  moment  of  writing,  I 
do  not  believe  that  the  crown  is  in  any  danger. 
The  Greeks,  without  distinction  of  party,  recognise 
the  great  services  their  ruler  has  rendered  to  the 
national  cause,  which  he  has  defended  for  the  past 
ten  years  in  the  European  chancelleries  with  inde- 
fatigable zeal  and  eloquence. 

"I  never  met  a  more  persuasive  or  more  able 
diplomat,"  said  M.  Clemenceau,  last  year  after  a 
visit  which  he  received  from  George  I. 

His  ability  has  not  only  consisted  in  defending 
his  country  against  the  ambitious  projects  of 
Turkey  by  placing  her  under  the  protection  of  the 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES      203 

powers  interested  in  preserving  the  status  quo  in 
the  East;  it  has  been  shown  in  the  ease  with  which 
he  effects  his  ends  amid  the  party  quarrels  that  en- 
venom political  life  in  Greece.  Guided  by  his 
native  common-sense  and  a  remarkable  knowledge 
of  mankind,  he  has  made  it  his  study,  in  governing, 
to  let  people  do  and  say  what  they  please,  at  least 
to  an  extent  that  enables  him  never  to  find  himself 
in  open  opposition  to  the  love  of  independence  and 
the  easily-offended  pride  of  his  subjects;  he  has 
realised  that  what  was  required  was  an  uncommon 
readiness  to  yield,  rather  than  inflexible  principles ; 
and,  of  all  the  ministers  who  succeeded  one  another 
since  his  accession,  the  celebrated  Coumandouros 
appears  to  be  the  one  from  whom  His  Majesty  de- 
rived and  retained  the  best  system  of  ironical,  easy- 
going government. 

For  the  rest,  it  must  be  admitted  that,  although 
the  Greek  nation  is  sometimes  tiresome,  with  its 
faults  and  weaknesses  which,  for  that  matter,  are 
purely  racial  and  temperamental,  on  the  other  hand 
it  is  generous  and  impulsive  to  a  degree;  and  its 
touchy  pride  is  only  the  effect  of  an  ardent  patriot- 
ism which  is  sometimes  manifested  in  the  most 
amusing  ways. 

For  instance,  when  Greece,  not  long  ago,  revived 
an  ancient  and  picturesque  tradition  and  decided  to 
restore  the  Olympic  Games  and  when  it  became  evi- 


204     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

dent  that  these  would  draw  large  numbers  of  for- 
eigners to  Athens,  the  pickpockets  held  a  meeting 
and  pledged  themselves  one  and  all  to  suspend  hos- 
tilities as  long  as  the  games  lasted,  in  order  to  guard 
the  reputation  of  the  country.  They  even  took  care 
to  inform  the  public  of  the  resolution  which  they 
had  passed;  and  they  did  more;  they  kept  their 
word,  with  this  unprecedented  result,  that  the  police 
had  a  holiday,  thanks  to  the  strike  of  the  thieves ! 

Last  year,  Mme.  Jacquemaire,  a  daughter  of  M. 
Clemenceau,  then  prime  minister  of  France,  made 
a  journey  to  Greece.  Returning  by  rail  from 
Athens  to  the  Piraeus,  where  she  was  to  take  ship 
for  Trieste,  she  missed  her  travelling-bag,  contain- 
ing her  jewels.  This  valuable  piece  of  luggage  had 
evidently  been  stolen;  and  she  lost  no  time  in  lodg- 
ing a  complaint  with  the  harbour-police,  although 
she  was  convinced  of  the  uselessness  of  the  step. 
The  quest  instituted  was,  in  fact,  vain.  But  mean- 
while the  press  had  seized  upon  the  incident  and 
stirred  up  public  opinion,  which  was  at  that  time 
persuaded  that  M.  Clemenceau,  whose  Philhellenic 
leanings  are  notorious,  had  promised  the  Greek 
government  his  support  in  its  efforts  to  obtain  the 
annexation  of  Crete.  The  daughter  of  the  man 
upon  whom  the  Greeks  based  such  hopes  as  these 
must  not,  people  said,  be  allowed  to  take  an  un- 
favourable impression  of  Greek  hospitality  away 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     205 

with  her.  The  newspapers  published  strongly- 
worded  articles  entreating  the  unknown  thief,  if  he 
was  a  Greek,  to  give  up  the  profit  of  his  larceny 
and  to  perform  a  noble  and  unselfish  act;  placards 
posted  on  the  walls  of  Athens  and  the  Piraeus  made 
vehement  appeals  to  his  patriotism.  Twenty-four 
hours  later,  the  police  received  the  bag  and  its  con- 
tents untouched;  and  they  were  restored  to  Mme. 
Jacquemaire  on  her  arrival  at  Trieste. 

2. 

The  pilot's  trade  is  a  hard  one  when  you  have  to. 
steer  through  continual  rocks,  to  keep  a  constant 
eye  upon  a  turbulent  crew  and  to  look  out  for  the 
"squalls"  which  are  perpetually  beating  down  from 
the  always  stormy  horizon  in  the  East.  It  is  easily 
understood  that  King  George  should  feel  a  longing, 
when  events  permit,  to  go  to  other  climes  in  search 
of  a  short  diversion  from  his  absorbing  responsi- 
bilities. 

"You  see,"  said  King  Leopold  of  the  Belgians 
to  me  one  day,  "our  real  rest  lies  in  forgetting  who 
we  are." 

And  yet  it  cannot  be  said  the  distractions  and  the 
rest  which  King  George  knew  that  he  would  find 
among  us  were  the  only  object  of  the  journeys 
across  Europe  which  he  made  every  year  until  the 
year  before  last.  He  always  carried  a  diplomatist's 


206     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

dispatch-box  among  his  luggage;  he  is  one  of  those 
who  believe  that  a  sovereign  can  travel  for  his  coun- 
try while  travelling  for  pleasure. 

"I  am  my  own  ambassador,"  he  often  said  to  me. 

The  King  used  to  come  to  us  generally  at  the 
beginning  of  the  autumn,  on  his  way  to  and  from 
Copenhagen,  where  he  never  omitted  to  visit  his 
father,  King  Christian,  and  his  sisters,  Queen  Alex- 
andra and  the  Empress  Marie  Feodorovna.  He 
delighted  in  this  annual  gathering,  which  collected 
round  the  venerable  grandsire  under  the  tall  trees 
of  Fredensborg,  the  largest  and  most  illustrious 
family  that  the  world  contains,  a  family  over  which 
the  old  king's  ascendency  and  authority  remained 
so  great  that  his  children,  were  they  emperors  or 
kings,  dared  not  go  into  Copenhagen  without  first 
asking  his  leave. 

"When  I  am  down  there,  I  feel  as  if  I  were 
still  a  little  boy,"  King  George  used  to  say,  laugh- 
ing. 

In  France,  he  was  a  young  man.  He  divided 
his  stay  between  Aix-les-Bains  and  Paris;  and  in 
Paris,  as  at  Aix,  he  had  but  one  thought  in  his  head : 
to  avoid  all  official  pomp  and  ceremony.  He  would 
have  been  greatly  distressed  if  he  had  been  treated 
too  obviously  as  a  sovereign ;  and,  when  he  accepted 
the  inevitable  official  dinner  to  which  the  President 
of  the  Republic  always  invited  him,  he  positively 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     207 

refused  the  royal  salute.  When  at  Aix,  he  used  to 
yield  to  the  necessity  of  attending  the  festivities 
which  the  authorities  of  that  charming  watering- 
place,  where  he  was  very  popular,  arranged  in  his 
honour;  but  only  because  he  did  not  wish  to  wound 
anyone's  feelings,  however  slightly.  And,  when  in- 
vited to  go  to  some  display  of  fireworks : 

"Cornel"  he  would  sigh.  "Another  party  in  my 
honour!" 

Other  business  detained  me  and  I  had  not  the 
privilege  of  being  attached  to  his  person  during 
his  first  stay  at  Aix.  The  French  Government 
sent  two  commissioners  from  Lyons  to  watch  over 
his  safety;  and  these  worthy  functionaries,  who  had 
never  been  charged  with  a  mission  of  this  kind  be- 
fore, lived  in  a  continual  state  of  alarm.  To  them, 
guarding  a  king  meant  never  to  lose  sight  of  him, 
to  follow  him  step  by  step  like  a  prisoner,  to  spy 
upon  his  movements  as  though  he  were  a  felon. 
They  ended  by  driving  our  guest  mad:  no  sooner 
had  he  left  his  bed-room  than  two  shadows  fastened 
on  to  his  heels  and  never  quitted  him ;  if  he  went  to 
a  restaurant,  to  the  casino,  to  the  theatre,  two  stern, 
motionless  faces  appeared  in  front  of  him,  four 
suspicious  eyes  peered  into  his  least  action.  It  was 
of  no  avail  for  him  to  try  to  throw  the  myrmidons 
off  the  scent,  to  look  for  back-doors  by  which  to 
escape  from  them:  there  was  no  avoiding  them; 


208     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

they  were  always  there.  He  made  a  discreet  com- 
plaint and  I  was  asked  to  replace  them. 

"You  are  very  welcome,"  he  said,  when  I  arrived. 
"Your  colleagues  from  Lyons  made  such  an  impres- 
sion on  me  that  I  ended  by  taking  myself  for  an 
assassin  1" 

To  my  mind  the  mission  of  guarding  this  par- 
ticularly unaffected  and  affable  King  was  neither 
a  very  absorbing  nor  a  very  thankless  task.  At 
Aix,  where  he  walked  about  from  morning  to  night 
like  any  ordinary  private  person,  everybody  knew 
him.  There  was  never  the  least  need  for  me  to 
consult  the  reports  of  my  inspectors;  the  saun- 
terers,  the  shopkeepers,  the  peasants  made  it  their, 
business  to  keep  me  informed. 

"Monsieur  le  Hoi,"  they  would  say,  "has  just 
passed  this  way;  he  went  down  that  turning." 

Then  I  would  see  a  familiar  form  twenty  yards 
ahead,  stick  in  hand,  Homburg  hat  on  one  ear,  the 
slim,  brisk  figure  clad  in  a  light  grey  suit,  stroll- 
ing down  the  street,  or  looking  into  a  shop-window, 
or  stopping  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of  workmen. 
It  was  "Monsieur  le  Roi." 

"Monsieur  le  Roi"  had  even  become  "Monsieur 
Georges"  to  the  pretty  laundresses  whom  he  greeted 
with  a  pleasant  "Good-morning"  when  he  passed 
them  at  the  wash-tubs  on  his  way  to  the  bathing 
establishment.  For  he  carefully  followed  the  cure 


KING   GEORGE  OF    GREECE   IN   THE   STREETS  OF   PARIS 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     209 

of  baths  and  douches  which  his  trusty  physician, 
Dr.  Guillard,  prescribed  for  his  arthritis.  He  left 
the  hotel  early  every  morning  and  walked  to  the 
Baths,  taking  a  road  that  leads  through  one  of  the 
oldest  parts  of  Aix.  The  inhabitants  of  that  pictur- 
esque corner  came  to  know  him  so  well  by  sight  that 
they  ended  by  treating  him  as  a  friendly  neighbour. 
Whenever  he  entered  the  Rue  du  Puits-d'Enfer, 
the  street-boys  would  stop  playing  and  receive  him 
with  merry  cheers,  to  which  he  replied  by  flinging 
handfuls  of  coppers  to  them.  The  news  of  his  ap- 
proach flew  from  door  to  door  till  it  reached  the 
laundry.  Forthwith,  the  girls  stopped  the  rhyth- 
mic beat  of  their  "dollies";  the  songs  ceased  on 
their  lips;  they  quickly  wiped  the  lather  from 
their  hands  on  a  corner  of  the  skirt  or  apron  and 
came  out  of  doors,  while  their  fresh  young  voices 
gave  him  the  familiar  greeting: 

"Good-morning,  M.  Georges  1  Three  cheers  for 
M.  Georges  1" 

They  chatted  for  a  bit;  the  King  amused  himself 
by  asking  questions,  joking,  replying;  then,  touch- 
ing the  brim  of  his  felt  hat,  he  went  his  way  with 
the  bright  voices  calling  after  him  prettily : 

"Au  revoir,  M.  Georges!     Till  to-morrow  1" 

He  enjoyed  this  morning  call  before  getting  into 
the  "deep  bath"  reserved  for  him;  and  he  himself 
was  popular  in  and  around  the  laundry  in  the  Rue 


210     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

du  Puits-d'Enfer,  not  only  because  of  his  good- 
nature and  good-humour,  but  because  the  girls  had 
more  than  once  experienced  the  benefits  of  his  un- 
obtrusive generosity. 

His  days,  at  Aix  as  in  Paris,  were  regulated  with 
mathematical  precision:  George  I  is  a  living  chro- 
nometer! After  making  his  daily  pilgrimage  to 
the  Baths,  he  returned  to  the  hotel,  read  his  tele- 
grams, dipped  into  the  French  and  English 
newspapers  and  worked  with  his  Master  of  the 
Household,  Count  Cernovitz,  or  with  his  equerry, 
General  de  Reineck,  or  else  with  M.  Delyanni,  the 
deeply-regretted  Greek  minister  to  Paris,  whom  he 
honoured  with  a  great  affection  and  who  always 
joined  his  royal  master  at  Aix. 

From  eleven  to  twelve  in  the  morning,  he  gen- 
erally gave  audiences,  either  to  the  authorities  of 
Aix,  with  whom  he  maintained  cordial  relations,  or 
to  strangers  of  note  who  were  presented  to  him 
during  his  stay.  When  he  kept  a  few  people  to 
lunch — which  often  happened — they  had  to  resign 
themselves  to  leaving  their  appetite  unsatisfied. 
The  King  eats  very  little  in  the  day-time  and  not 
only  ordered  a  desperately  frugal  menu,  but  him- 
self touched  nothing  except  the  hors-d'oeuvre.  His 
visitors  naturally  thought  themselves  obliged,  out 
of  deference  to  imitate  his  example,  the  more  so 
as,  otherwise,  they  ran  the  risk  of  having  their 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES 

mouths  full  at  the  moment  when  they  had  to  reply 
to  the  King's  frequent  questions.  His  regular 
guests,  therefore,  the  prefect  and  the  mayor,  know- 
ing by  experience  what  was  in  store  for  them,  had 
adopted  a  system  which  was  both  practical  and  in- 
genious: whenever  they  were  invited  to  the  royal 
table  they  lunched  before  they  came. 

In  the  evening,  on  the  other  hand,  His  Majesty 
made  a  hearty  meal.  He  always  dined  in  the  pub- 
lic room  of  the  restaurant  of  the  Casino,  with  his 
medical  adviser  and  some  friends;  and,  when  Dr. 
Guillard  cried  out  against  the  excessive  number  of 
courses  which  the  royal  host  was  fond  of  ordering: 

"Don't  be  angry  with  me,"  he  replied.  "I  don't 
order  them  for  myself,  but  for  the  good  of  the 
house ;  if  the  restaurant  didn't  make  a  profit  out  of 
me,  where  would  it  be?" 

After  dinner,  he  took  us  with  him  either  to  the 
gaming-rooms  or  to  the  theatre.  Although  the 
King  did  not  play  himself,  it  amused  him  to  stroll 
round  the  tables,  to  watch  the  expression  of  the 
gamblers,  and  to  observe  the  numberless  typical 
incidents  that  always  occur  among  such  a  cosmo- 
politan crowd  as  that  consisting  of  the  frequenters 
of  our  watering-places.  He  also  loved  to  hear  the 
gossip  of  the  place,  to  know  all  about  the  petty  in- 
trigues, the  little  domestic  tragedies.  Lastly,  he 
liked  making  the  acquaintance  of  any  well-known 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

actor   or   actress   who   happened   to   be    passing 
through  Aix. 

One  evening,  seeing  Mile.  Balthy,  the  famous 
comic  reciter,  at  the  Casino  and  knowing,  by  hear- 
say, what  a  witty  woman  she  was,  he  told  me  that 
he  would  be  glad  to  meet  her;  and  nothing  was 
easier  than  to  satisfy  the  King's  wish.  Neverthe- 
less, the  idea  frightened  me  a  little:  the  humour 
of  the  charmingly  eccentric  artist  that  Balthy  is, 
sometimes  adopts  so  very  daring  a  form,  and  I 
dreaded  lest  her  remarks  might  be  a  little  too 
"startling."  I  spoke  my  mind  on  the  subject  to 
the  King. 

"Never  fear,  Paoli,"  he  said.  "Mile.  Balthy's 
'startling'  side  will  amuse  me  immensely :  you  need 
not  be  a  greater  royalist  than  the  King!" 

So  I  went  in  search  of  the  delightful  creature : 

"My  dear  Balthy,"  I  said,  "come  with  me  and 
be  presented  to  the  King." 

"To  George?"  she  replied,  winking  her  eye. 

I  shuddered  with  dismay ! 

"To  His  Majesty  the  King  of  the  Hellenes,  yes." 

"Come  on!" 

But  lo  and  behold,  in  the  King's  presence, 
Balthy — O,  wonder  of  wonders! — lost  all  her  self- 
assurance.  I  expected  to  see  her  tap  the  King  on 
the  shoulder;  instead,  she  made  him  an  elaborate 
curtsey.  In  reply  to  the  compliments  which  he 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     213 

paid  her  she  was  content  modestly  to  lower  her 
eyes:  she  even  went  so  far  as  to  blush!  We  might 
have  been  at  court. 

And,  when  the  King,  not  knowing  what  to  think, 
and  feeling  perhaps  a  trifle  disappointed,  confessed 
his  surprise  at  her  shyness: 

"What  can  you  expect?"  she  declared.  "If 
even  you  were  merely  a  president  of  the  republic, 
it  wouldn't  put  me  out;  but  a  king — that  makes  me 
feel  uncomfortable!  And,  besides,  no  king  can 
care  for  thin  women;  and  I  should  look  like  a  sar- 
dine, even  if  you  put  me  next  to  Sarah  Bernhardt !" 

The  ice  was  broken.  The  Balthy  of  tradition 
began  to  peep  through  the  surface  and  the  King 
was  delighted. 

Our  guest  did  more  than  show  his  liking  for  the 
shining  light  of  the  profession:  he  numbered 
friends  also  among  the  humble  performers  at  the 
Grand  Theatre.  Sabadon,  the  good,  jolly,  inde- 
scribable Sabadon,  who  for  twenty  years  had  sung 
first  "heavy  bass"  at  the  theatre  of  the  town,  was 
one  of  them.  This  is  how  I  discovered  the  fact: 
when  the  King  came  to  Aix,  some  years  ago,  Sab- 
adon shouldered  his  way  to  the  front  row  of  the 
spectators  who  were  waiting  outside  the  station  to 
see  His  Majesty  arrive.  The  enthusiastic  crowd 
kept  on  shouting,  "Long  live  King  George!"  and 
Sabadon,  with  his  powerful  voice,  his  "heavy  bass" 


214     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

voice,  which  had  filled  all  the  "grand  theatres"  in 
the  provinces/  Sabadon,  with  his  southern  accent 
(he  was  from  Toulouse)  shouted  louder  than  all 
the  rest  and,  so  that  he  might  shout  more  freely, 
had  taken  a  step  forward. 

But  a  policeman  was  watching;  and  fearing  lest 
the  royal  procession  should  be  disturbed  by  this  in- 
trusive person,  he  walked  up  to  him  and,  in  a  bully- 
ing tone,  said : 

"Get  back;  and  look  sharp  about  it.  You  don't 
imagine  you're  going  to  stand  in  the  King's  road, 
do  you?" 

Sabadon,  who  is  a  hot-blooded  fellow,  like  all  the 
men  from  his  part  of  the  country,  was  about  to  re- 
ply with  one  of  those  forcible  and  pungent  out- 
bursts which  are  the  salt  of  the  Gascon  speech: 

"You  low,  rascally — "  he  began. 

But  he  had  no  time  to  finish.  The  King  ap- 
peared at  the  entrance  to  the  railway-station,  came 
across  and,  as  he  passed,  said : 

"Hullo,  M.  Sabadon!  How  do  you  do,  M.  Sab- 
adon? Are  they  biting  this  year?" 

"Yes,  Sir,  Your  Majesty.  And  your  family? 
Keeping  well,  I  hope?  That's  right!" 

Then,  when  the  King  had  disappeared,  Sabadon 
turned  to  the  astounded  policeman: 

"What  do  you  say  to  that,  my  son?  Flabber- 
gasts you,  eh?" 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     215 

How  did  the  King  come  to  know  the  singer? 
And  why  had  he  asked  with  so  much  interest  if 
"they  were  biting  this  year"?  One  of  the  local 
papers  reported  the  incident  and  supplied  the  ex- 
planation, which  I  did  not  trouble  to  verify,  but 
which  is  so  amusing  and,  at  the  same  time,  prob- 
able that  I  give  it  here.  The  King,  it  seems,  who 
often  walked  to  the  Lac  du  Bourget,  a  few  miles 
from  Aix,  thought  that  he  would  try  his  hand  at 
fishing,  one  afternoon.  Taking  the  necessary 
tackle  with  him,  he  sat  down  on  the  shore  of  the 
lake  and  cast  his  line.  Ten  minutes,  twenty  min- 
utes passed.  Not  a  bite.  The  King  felt  the  more 
annoyed  as,  thirty  yards  from  where  he  was,  a  man 
— a  stranger  like  himself — was  pulling  up  his  line 
at  every  moment  with  a  trout  or  a  bream  wriggling 
at  the  end  of  it. 

The  disheartened  King  ended  by  deciding  to 
go  up  to  the  angler  and  ask  him  how  he  man- 
aged to  catch  so  many  fish!  But  before  he  was 
able  to  say  a  word,  the  man  stood  up,  bowed 
with  great  ceremony  and,  in  a  stentorian  voice, 
said : 

"Sir,  Your  Majesty     .     .     ." 

"What!    Do  you  know  me?"  asked  the  King. 

"Sir,  Your  Majesty,  let  me  introduce  myself: 
Sabadon,  second  heavy  bass  at  the  Theatre  du  Capi- 
tole  of  Toulouse,  at  this  moment  first  chorus-leader 


216     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

at  the  Theatre  Municipal  of  Aix-les-Bains.     I  have 
seen  you  in  the  stage-box." 

"Ah!"  said  the  King,  taken  aback.     "But  please 

explain  to  me  why  you  get  so  many  fish,  whereas 

» 

•     •     • 

"Habit,  Sir,  Your  Majesty,  a  trick  of  the  hand 
and  personal  fascination;  it  needs  an  education;  I 
got  mine  at  Pinsaquel,  near  Toulouse,  at  the  junc- 
tion of  the  Ariege  and  the  Gavonne.  .  .  .  Ah, 
Pinsaquell" 

And  Sabadon's  voice  was  filled  with  all  the  pangs 
of  homesickness : 

"Have  you  never  been  to  Pinsaquel  ?  You  ought 
to  go ;  it's  the  anglers'  paradise." 

"Certainly,  I  will  go  there  one  day.  But,  mean- 
while, I  shall  be  returning  with  an  empty  basket." 

"Never,  not  if  I  know  it!  Take  my  place,  Sir, 
Your  Majesty,  each  time  I  say  'Hop' !  pull  up  your 
line,  and  tell  me  what  you  think  of  it!" 

The  King,  mightily  amused  by  the  adventure, 
followed  his  instructions.  In  three  minutes  Sab- 
adon's tremendous  voice  gave  the  signal: 

"Hop!" 

It  was  a  trout.  And  the  fishing  went  on,  in  an 
almost  miraculous  manner. 

As  they  walked  back  to  the  town  together,  an 
hour  later,  Sabadon  took  the  opportunity  to  ex- 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     217 

pound  to  the  King  the  cause  of  his  grudge  against 
Meyerbeer,  the  composer: 

"You  must  understand,  Sir,  Your  Majesty,  that, 
at  the  theatre,  at  Toulouse,  it  was  I  who  used  to 
play  the  night  watchman  in  the  Huguenots.  I  had 
to  cross  the  stage  with  a  lantern ;  and,  as  I  am  very 
popular  at  Toulouse,  I  used  to  receive  a  wonderful 
ovation:  "Bravo,  Sabadon!  Hurrah  for  Sab- 
adon!"  Just  as  when  you  came  to  Aix,  Sir,  Your 
Majesty  .  .  .  Well,  in  spite  of  that  the  man- 
ager absolutely  refused  to  let  me  take  a  call,  be- 
cause the  music  didn't  lend  itself  to  it  1  I  ask  you, 
Sir,  Your  Majesty,  if  that  lout  of  a  Meyerbeer 
couldn't  have  let  me  cross  the  stage  a  second  time !" 

3. 

King  George,  who,  like  most  reigning  sovereigns, 
is  an  indefatigable  walker,  used  to  start  out  every 
day  in  the  late  afternoon  and  come  back  just  before 
dinner-time.  He  nearly  always  took  a  member  of 
his  suite  with  him ;  one  of  my  inspectors  would  fol- 
low him.  All  the  peasants  round  Aix  knew  the 
King  by  sight  and  raised  their  caps  as  he  passed. 
He  is  very  young  in  mind — in  this  respect,  he  has 
remained  the  midshipman  of  his  boyhood — and  he 
sometimes  amused  himself  by  playing  a  trick  on 
the  companion  of  his  walk.  For  instance,  as  soon 


218     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

as  he  saw  that  his  equerry,  after  covering  a  reason- 
able number  of  miles,  was  beginning,  if  I  may  so 
express  myself,  to  hang  out  signals  of  distress,  the 
King  suggested  that  they  should  turn  into  a  road- 
side public-house  for  a  drink. 

"They  keep  a  certain  small  wine  of  the  country 
here,"  he  said,  "which  has  a  flavour  all  of  its  own; 
but  you  must  drink  it  down  at  a  draught." 

The  other,  whether  he  was  thirsty  or  not,  dared 
not  refuse.  They  therefore  entered  the  inn  and  the 
King  had  a  tumbler  filled  with  the  famous  nectar 
and  handed  it  to  his  equerry,  taking  good  care  not 
to  drink  any  himself.  It  was,  in  point  of  fact,  a 
piquette,  or  sour  wine,  with  a  taste  "all  of  its  own" 
and  resembling  nothing  so  much  as  vinegar;  and 
the  King's  guest,  when  he  had  emptied  his  glass, 
could  not  help  pulling  a  frightful  face.  He  dared 
not,  however,  be  so  disrespectful  as  to  complain; 
and  when  the  King,  who  had  enjoyed  the  scene 
enormously,  asked,  in  a  very  serious  voice: 

"Delicious,  isn't  it?" 

"Oh,  delicious!"  the  equerry  replied,  with  an  air 
of  conviction. 

You  must  not,  however,  think  that  the  King's 
practical  jokes  were  always  cruel.  Most  often, 
they  bore  witness,  under  a  superficial  appearance  of 
mischief,  to  his  discriminating  kindness  of  heart. 

I  remember,  in  this  connexion,  once  going  to 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     219 

meet  him  at  the  frontier-station  of  Culoz,  through 
which  he  was  passing  on  his  way  from  Geneva  to 
'Aix.  The  members  of  his  suite  and  I  had  left  him 
alone,  for  a  few  moments,  while  we  went  to  buy 
some  books  and  newspapers  which  he  had  asked  for. 
As  he  was  walking  up  and  down  the  platform,  he 
saw  a  good  woman  at  the  door  of  a  third-class  rail- 
way-carriage, a  plump,  red-faced  sort  of  peasant- 
woman,  who  was  making  vain  efforts  to  open  the 
door  and  fuming  with  anger  and  impatience.  Sud- 
denly catching  sight  of  the  King,  who  stood  looking 
at  her: 

"Hi,  there,  Mr.  Porter!"  she  cried.  "Come  and 
help  me,  can't  you?" 

The  King  ran  up,  opened  the  carriage-door  and 
received  the  fat  person  in  his  arms.  Next,  she  said : 

"Fetch  me  out  my  basket  of  vegetables  and  my 
bundle." 

The  King  obediently  executed  her  commands. 
At  that  moment  we  appeared  upon  the  platform, 
and  to  our  amazement  saw  King  George  carrying 
the  basket  under  one  arm  and  the  bundle  under 
the  other.  He  made  a  sign  to  me  not  to  move. 
He  carried  the  luggage  to  the  waiting-room,  took 
a  ticket  for  the  fair  traveller,  who  was  changing  her 
train,  and  refused  to  accept  payment  for  it,  in  spite 
of  her  insistence.  What  a  pleasant  recollection  she 
must  have  of  the  porters  at  Culoz  Station  I 


220     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Here  is  another  adventure,  which  happened  at 
Aix.  The  King  had  the  habit,  on  leaving  the  Ca- 
sino in  the  evening,  to  go  back  with  me  in  the  hotel- 
omnibus,  which  was  reserved  for  his  use:  he  found 
this  easier  than  taking  a  cab.  One  evening,  just 
as  we  were  about  to  step  in,  a  visitor  staying  at 
the  hotel,  a  foreign  lady,  not  knowing  that  the 
omnibus  was  reserved  exclusively  for  the  King, 
went  in  before  us,  sat  down  and  waited  for  the 
'bus  to  start.  As  I  was  about  to  ask  her  to  get 
out: 

"Let  her  be,"  said  the  King.  "She's  not  in  our 
way." 

We  got  inside  in  our  turn;  I  sat  down  opposite 
the  King;  the  omnibus  started;  the  lady  did  not 
move.  Suddenly,  the  King  broke  silence  and 
spoke  to  me;  I  replied,  using,  of  course,  the  cus- 
tomary forms  of  "Sire"  and  "Your  Majesty." 

Thereupon  the  lady  looked  at  us  in  dismay,  flung 
herself  against  the  window,  tapped  at  it,  called  out: 

"What  have  I  done?  Heavens,  what  have  I 
done?"  she  cried.  "I  am  in  the  King's  omnibus  1 
Stop!  Stop!" 

And  turning  to  the  King,  with  a  theatrical  ges- 
ture: 

"Pardon,  Sire." 

The  King  was  seized  with  a  fit  of  laughing,  in 
the  midst  of  which  he  did  his  best  to  reassure  her: 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES 

"I  entreat  you,  Madam,  calm  yourself!  You 
have  nothing  to  fear:  a  King  is  not  an  epidemic 
disease !" 

The  good  lady  quieted  down;  but  we  reached 
the  hotel  without  being  able  to  extract  a  word  from 
her  paralysed  throat. 

In  this  respect,  she  did  not  resemble  the  major- 
ity of  her  sisters  of  the  fair  sex,  before  whose 
imperious  and  charming  despotism  we  have  bowed 
since  the  days  of  our  father  Adam.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  no  sovereign  that  I  know  of  ever  aroused 
more  affectionate  curiosity  in  the  female  circles 
than  King  George.  The  glamour  of  his  rank  had 
something  to  say  to  the  matter,  no  doubt;  but  I 
have  reason  to  believe  that  the  elegance  of  his  per- 
son, the  affability  of  his  manners  and  the  conquer- 
ing air  of  his  moustache  were  not  wholly  uncon- 
nected with  it.  Whether  leaving  his  hotel,  or 
entering  the  restaurant  or  one  of  the  rooms  of  the 
Casino,  or  appearing  in  the  paddock  at  the  races, 
which  he  attended  regularly,  he  became  the  cyno- 
sure of  every  pair  of  bright  eyes  and  the  object 
of  cunning  manoeuvres  on  the  part  of  their  pretty 
owners,  who  were  anxious  to  approach  him  and  to 
find  out  what  a  king  is  made  of  when  you  see  him 
close.  No  man  is  quite  insensible  to  such  advances. 
At  the  same  time,  George  I  was  too  clever  to  be 
taken  in;  he  was  amused  at  the  homage  paid  him 


222     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

and  accepted  it  in  his  usual  spirit  of  bantering,  but 
polite  coyness,  although  the  ladies'  persistence 
often  became  both  indiscreet  and  troublesome. 

For  the  rest,  he  led  a  very  quiet,  very  method- 
ical and  rather  monotonous  life,  both  at  Aix  and 
in  Paris;  for  to  the  character  of  this  sovereign,  as 
to  that  of  most  others,  there  is  a  "middle-class" 
side  that  displays  itself  in  harmless  eccentricities. 
For  instance,  King  George,  when  he  travels 
abroad,  always  goes  to  the  same  hotel,  occupies  the 
same  rooms  and  is  so  averse  to  change  that  he  likes 
every  piece  of  furniture  to  be  in  exactly  the  same 
place  where  he  last  left  it.  I  shall  never  forget 
my  astonishment  when,  entering  the  King's  bed- 
room a  few  moments  after  his  arrival  at  the  Hotel 
Bristol  in  Paris,  I  caught  him  bodily  moving  a 
heavy  Louis-XV  chest  of  drawers,  which  he  car- 
ried across  the  room  with  the  help  of  his  physician. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  "it  used  to  stand  by  the  fire- 
place and  they  have  shifted  it  to  the  window,  so  I 
am  putting  it  back." 

Certainly,  he  had  the  most  wonderful  memory 
for  places  that  I  ever  observed. 

4. 

I  have  spoken  of  my  duties  with  regard  to  this 
monarch  as  an  agreeable  sinecure.  But  I  was  ex- 
aggerating. Once,  when  I  was  with  him  at  Aix, 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     223 

I  had  a  terrible  alarm.  I  was  standing  beside  him, 
in  the  evening,  in  the  petits-chevaux  room  at  the 
Casino,  when  one  of  my  inspectors  slipped  a  note 
into  my  hand.  It  was  to  inform  me  that  an  indi- 
vidual of  Roumanian  nationality,  a  rabid  Greco- 
phobe,  had  arrived  at  Aix,  with,  it  was  feared,  the 
intention  of  killing  the  King.  There  was  no 
further  clue. 

I  was  in  a  very  unpleasant  predicament.  I  did 
not  like  to  tell  the  King,  for  fear  of  spoiling  his 
stay.  To  go  just  then  in  search  of  further  details 
would  have  been  worse  still :  there  could  be  no  ques- 
tion of  leaving  the  King  alone.  How  could  I  dis- 
cover the  man?  For  all  I  knew,  he  was  quite  near; 
and  instinctively,  I  scrutinised  carefully  all  the 
people  who  crowded  round  us,  kept  my  eyes  fixed 
on  those  who  seemed  to  be  staring  too  persistently, 
at  the  King  and  watched  every  movement  of  the 
players. 

At  daybreak  the  next  morning,  I  set  to  work  and 
started  enquiries.  I  had  no  difficulty  in  discover- 
ing my  man.  He  was  a  Roumanian  student  and 
had  put  up  at  a  cheap  hotel;  he  was  said  to  be 
rather  excitable  in  his  manner,  if  not  in  his  lan- 
guage. I  could  not  arrest  him  as  long  as  I  had 
no  definite  charge  brought  against  him.  I  resolved 
to  have  him  closely  shadowed  by  the  Aix  poh'ce 
and  I  myself  arranged  never  to  stir  a  foot  from  the 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

King's  side.  Things  went  on  like  this  for  several 
days:  the  King  knew  nothing  and  the  Roumanian 
neither ;  but  I  would  gladly  have  bought  him  a  rail- 
way-ticket to  get  rid  of  him. 

Presently,  however,  one  of  my  inspectors  came 
to  me,  wearing  a  terrified  look : 

"We've  lost  the  track  of  the  Roumanian  1"  he 
declared. 

"You  are  mad!"  I  cried. 

"No,  would  I  were!  He  has  left  his  hotel  un- 
noticed by  any  of  us ;  and  we  don't  know  what  has 
become  of  him." 

I  flew  into  a  rage  and  at  once  ordered  a  search 
to  be  made  for  him.  It  was  labour  lost ;  there  was 
not  a  trace  of  him  to  be  found. 

For  once,  I  was  seriously  uneasy.  I  resolved 
to  tell  the  whole  story  to  the  King  so  that  he  might 
allow  himself  to  be  quietly  guarded.  But  he 
merely  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  laughed. 

"You  see,  Paoli,"  he  said,  "I  am  a  fatalist.  If 
my  hour  has  come,  neither  you  nor  I  can  avoid  it; 
and  I  am  certainly  not  going  to  let  a  trifle  of  this 
kind  spoil  my  holiday.  Besides,  it  is  not  the  first 
time  that  I  have  seen  danger  close  at  hand;  and 
I  assure  you  that  I  am  not  afraid.  Look  here,  a 
few  years  ago,  I  was  returning  one  day  with  my 
daughter  to  my  castle  of  Tato'i,  near  Athens.  We 
were  driving,  without  an  escort.  Suddenly,  hap- 


GEORGE  I,  KING  OF  THE  HELLENES     225 

pening  to  turn  my  head,  I  saw  a  rifle  barrel  pointed 
at  us  from  the  road  side,  gleaming  between  the 
leaves  of  the  bushes.  I  leaped  up  and  instantly 
flung  myself  in  front  of  my  daughter.  The  rifle 
followed  me.  I  said  to  myself,  'It's  all  over;  I'm 
a  dead  man.'  And  what  do  you  think  I  did?  I 
have  never  been  able  to  explain  why,  but  I  began 
to  count  aloud — 'One,  two,  three' — it  seemed  an 
age;  and  I  was  just  going  to  say,  'Four/  when  the 
shot  was  fired.  I  closed  my  eyes.  The  bullet 
whistled  past  my  ears.  The  startled  horses  ran 
away,  we  were  saved  and  I  thought  no  more  about 
it.  So  do  not  let  us  alarm  ourselves  before  the 
event,  my  dear  Paoli:  we  will  wait  and  see  what 
happens." 

I  admired  the  King's  fine  coolness,  of  course; 
but  I  was  none  the  easier  in  my  mind  for  all  that. 
Still,  the  King  was  right,  this  time,  and  I  was 
wrong:  we  never  heard  anything  more  about  the 
mysterious  Roumanian. 

5. 

George  I  has  preserved  none  but  agreeable 
recollections  of  his  different  visits  to  Aix.  In  evi- 
dence of  this,  I  will  only  mention  the  regret  which 
he  expressed  to  me,  in  one  of  his  last  letters,  that 
the  Greek  crisis  prevented  him  from  making  his 
usual  trip  to  France  in  1909: 


226     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"Here  where  duty  keeps  me — nobody  knows  for  how 
long — I  often  think  of  my  friends  at  Aix,  of  my  friends 
in  France,  whom  I  should  so  much  like  to  see  again;  of 
that  beautiful  country,  of  our  walks  and  talks.  But  life 
is  made  up  of  little  sacrifices ;  they  do  not  count,  if  we  suc- 
ceed in  attaining  the  object  which  we  pursue;  and  mine  is 
to  ensure  for  my  people  the  happiness  which  they  deserve." 

The  King  has  depicted  his  very  self  in  those  few 
words :  I  know  no  better  portrait  of  him. 


VII 

QUEEN  WILHELMINA  OF  THE  NETH- 
ERLANDS 


VII 

QUEEN  WILHELMINA  OF  THE  NETH- 
ERLANDS 

1. 

I  HAD  the  honour  of  presenting  myself  in  per- 
son to  Queen  Wilhelmina  on  the  first  of 
November,  1895,  at  Geneva,  the  city  where, 
a  year  earlier,  I  had  gone  to  meet  the  tragic  and 
charming  Empress  Elizabeth  of  Austria  and 
where,  three  years  later,  I  was  fated  to  see  her 
lying  on  a  bed  in  an  hotel,  stabbed  to  death.  The 
official  instructions  with  which  I  was  furnished 
stated  that  I  was  to  accompany  their  Majesties  the 
Queen  and  Queen  Regent  of  the  Netherlands  from 
Geneva  to  Aix-les-Bains  and  to  ensure  their  safety 
during  their  stay  on  French  soil. 

I  have  preserved  a  pleasant  recollection  of  this 
presentation,  which  took  place  on  the  station-plat- 
form on  a  dull,  wintry  morning.  I  remember  how, 
while  I  was  introducing  myself  to  General  Du 
Monceau,  the  Queen's  principal  aide-de-camp, 
there  suddenly  appeared  on  the  foot-board  of  the 
royal  carriage  a  young  girl  with  laughing  eyes,  her 

229 


230     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

face  agleam  and  pink  under  her  flaxen  tresses,  very 
simply  dressed  in  a  blue  tailor-made  skirt  and  coat, 
with  a  big  black  boa  round  her  neck.  And  I  re- 
member a  fresh,  almost  childish  voice  that  made  the 
general  give  a  brisk  half -turn  and  a  courtly  bow. 

"General,"  she  said,  "don't  forget  to  buy  me  some 
post  cards!" 

This  pink,  fair-haired  girl,  with  the  clear  voice, 
was  Queen  Wilhelmina,  who  at  that  time  was  the 
yery  personification  of  the  title  of  "the  little  Queen" 
which  Europe,  with  one  accord,  had  bestowed  upon 
her,  a  title  suggestive  of  fragile  grace,  touching 
familiarity  and  affectionate  deference.  She  was 
just  sixteen  years  of  age.  It  was  true  that,  as  a 
poet  had  written: 

A  pair  of  woman's  eyes  already  gazed 
Above  her  childish  smile ; 

and  that  her  apprenticeship  in  the  performance  of 
a  queen's  duties  had  already  endowed  her  mind  with 
a  precocious  maturity.  Nevertheless,  her  ready  as- 
tonishment, her  spontaneity,  her  frank  gaiety,  her 
reckless  courage  showed  that  she  was  still  a  real 
girl,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word.  She  hastened, 
happy  and  trusting,  to  the  encounter  of  life;  she 
blossomed  like  the  tulips  of  her  own  far  fields;  she 
was  of  the  age  that  gives  imperious  orders  to  destiny, 
that  lives  in  a  palace  of  glass !  I  doubt  whether  she 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  231 

really  understood — although  she  never  made  a  re- 
mark to  me  on  the  subject — that  the  French  gov- 
ernment had  thought  itself  obliged  to  appoint  a 
solemn  functionary — even  though  it  were  only  M. 
Paoli ! — whose  one  and  only  mission  was  to  protect 
her  against  the  dagger  of  a  possible  assassin.  The 
sweet  little  Queen  could  not  imagine  herself  to 
possess  an  enemy;  and  the  people  who  had  ap- 
proached her  hitherto  had  learnt  nothing  from  her 
but  her  gentle  kindness. 

As  for  Queen  Emma,  she  was  as  simple  and  as 
easy  of  access  as  her  daughter,  although  more  re- 
served. She  fulfilled  her  double  task  as  regent  and 
mother,  as  counsellor  and  educator  with  great 
dignity,  bringing  to  it  the  virile  authority,  the  spirit 
of  decision  and  the  equability  of  character  which  we 
so  often  find  in  women  summoned  by  a  too-early 
widowhood  to  assume  the  responsibilities  of  the  head 
of  a  family.  And  nothing  more  edifying  was  ever 
seen  than  the  close  union  that  prevailed  between 
those  two  illustrious  ladies,  who  never  left  each 
other's  side,  taking  all  their  meals  alone,  although 
they  were  accompanied  by  a  numerous  suite,  and 
living  in  a  constant  communion  of  thought  and  in 
the  still  enjoyment  of  a  mutual  and  most  touching 
affection. 

Their  suite,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  numerous  one. 
In  fact,  it  consisted,  in  addition  to  Lieutenant- 


232     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

General  Count  Du  Monceau,  of  two  chamberlains : 
Colonel  (now  Major-general)  Jonkheer  Willem 
van  de  Poll  and  Jonkheer  Rudolph  van  Pabst  van 
Bingerden  (now  Baron  van  Pabst  van  Bingerden) ; 
a  business  secretary:  Jonkheer  P.  J.  Vegelin  van 
Claerbergen;  two  ladies-in-waiting:  "Mesdemoi- 
selles  les  baronnes"  (as  they  were  styled  in  the 
Dutch  protocol)  Elizabeth  van  Ittersum  and  Anna 
Juckema  van  Burmania  Rengers;  a  reader:  Miss 
Kreusler;  five  waiting- women ;  and  five  footmen. 
Compared  with  the  tiny  courts  that  usually  accom- 
panied other  sovereigns  when  travelling,  this  made 
a  somewhat  imposing  display!  Nevertheless  and 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  this  sixteen-year-old 
Queen  appeared  to  me  decked  with  the  glory  of  a 
fairy  princess,  I  am  bound  to  admit  that  the  royal 
circle  presented  none  of  the  venerable  austerity 
and  superannuated  grace  so  quaintly  conjured  up 
in  Perrault's  Tales.  The  Jonkheers *  were  not 
old  lords  equipped  with  shirt  frills  and  snuff-boxes ; 
Mesdemoiselles  les  baronnes  were  not  severe 
duennas  encased  in  stiff  silk  gowns:  the  court  was 
young  and  gay,  with  that  serene  and  healthy  gaiety 
which  characterises  the  Dutch  temperament. 

Why  was  it  going  to  Aix?     The  choice  of  this 
stay  puzzled  me.     Aix-les-Bains   is   hardly   ever 

i  Jonkheer  is  a  Dutch  hereditary  title  of  nobility,  ranking  below 
that  of  baron. — Translator's  Ffote< 


QUEEN    WILHELMINA 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  233 

visited  in  November.  The  principal  hotels  are 
closed,  for,  in  that  mountainous  region,  winter  sets 
in  with  full  severity  immediately  after  the  end  of 
autumn. 

I  put  the  question  to  General  Du  Monceau,  who 
explained  to  me  that  the  doctors  had  recommended 
Queen  Wilhelmina  to  take  a  three-week's  cure  of 
pure,  keen  air ;  and  that  was  why  they  had  selected 
Aix,  or  rather  the  Corbieres,  a  spot  situated  at 
2,000  feet  above  Aix,  on  the  slope  of  the  Grand 
Revard. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  there  was  no  Hotel 
there;  and  the  only  villa  in  the  neighbourhood  had 
to  be  hired  for  the  Queens'  use.  This  was  a  large 
wooden  chalet,  standing  at  the  skirt  of  a  pine- 
forest,  close  to  the  hamlet.  The  wintry  wind 
whistled  under  the  doors  and  howled  down  the 
chimneys;  there  was  no  central  heating-apparatus 
and  huge  fires  were  lit  in  every  room.  From  the 
windows  of  this  rustic  dwelling,  the  eye  took  in 
the  amphitheatre  of  the  mountains  of  Savoy  and 
their  deep  and  beautiful  valleys;  and,  above  the 
thatched  roofs  ensconced  among  the  trees,  one 
saw  little  columns  of  blue  smoke  rise  trembling  to 
the  sky. 

Snow  began  to  fall  on  the  day  after  our  arrival. 
It  soon  covered  the  mountains  all  around  with  a 
cloak  of  dazzling  white,  spread  a  soft  carpet  over 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

I 

the  meadows  before  the  house  and  powdered  the 
long  tresses  of  the  pines  with  hoar-frost.  A  great 
silence  ensued ;  I  seemed  to  be  living  more  and  more 
in  the  midst  of  a  fairy-tale. 

The  court  settled  down  as  best  it  could.  The 
two  Queens  occupied  three  unpretending  rooms  on 
the  first  floor;  the  royal  suite  divided  the  other 
apartments  among  them ;  some  of  the  servants  were 
lodged  in  a  neighbouring  farm-house.  As  for  my- 
self, I  was  bound  to  keep  in  daily  telegraphic  touch 
with  Paris  and  with  the  prefect  of  the  department ; 
and  I  found  it  more  convenient  to  sleep  at  Aix.  I 
went  up  to  the  Corbieres  every  morning  by  the 
funicular  railway,  which  had  been  reopened  for  the 
use  of  our  royal  guests,  and  went  down  again, 
every  evening,  by  the  same  route. 

The  two  Queens,  who  appeared  to  revel  in  this 
stern  solitude,  had  planned  out  for  themselves  a 
regular  and  methodical  mode  of  life.  They  were 
up  by  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  walked  to 
the  hamlet,  chatted  with  the  peasants  and  cow- 
herds and,  after  a  short  stroll,  returned  to  the  villa, 
where  Queen  Emma,  who,  at  that  period,  was  still 
exercising  the  functions  of  regent,  dispatched  her 
affairs  of  State,  while  little  Queen  Wilhelmina  em- 
ployed her  time  in  studying  or  drawing,  for  she 
was  a  charming  and  gifted  draughtswoman.  She 
loved  nothing  more  than  to  jot  down  from  life,  so 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  235 

to  speak,  such  rustic  scenes  as  offered:  peasant- 
lads  leading  their  cows  to  the  fields,  or  girls  knit- 
ting or  sewing  on  the  threshold  of  their  doors.  The 
people  round  about  came  to  know  of  this ;  they  also 
knew  that  Her  Majesty  was  in  the  habit  of  gener- 
ously rewarding  her  willing  models.  And  so,  as 
soon  as  she  had  installed  herself  by  the  roadside, 
or  in  her  garden,  with  her  sketch-book  and  pencils, 
cows  or  little  pigs  accompanied  by  their  owners, 
would  spring  up  as  though  by  magic! 

I  have  said  that  the  Queens  were  in  the  habit  of 
taking  their  meals  alone.  Nevertheless,  outside 
meals,  they  mingled  very  readily  with  the  members 
of  their  suite,  whom  they  honoured  with  an  affec- 
tionate familiarity. 

The  afternoons — whatever  the  weather  might  be 
— were  devoted  to  long  walks,  on  which  Queen 
Wilhelmina  used  to  set  out  accompanied  generally 
by  one  or  two  ladies-in-waiting  and  a  chamberlain ; 
sometimes  I  would  go  with  her  myself.  Queen 
Emma,  knowing  her  daughter's  indefatigable 
venturesomeness,  had  given  up  accompanying  her 
on  her  expeditions.  We  often  returned  covered 
with  snow,  our  faces  blue  with  the  cold,  our  boots 
soaked  through ;  but  it  made  no  difference ;  the  lit- 
tle Queen  was  delighted.  She  dusted  her  gaiters, 
shook  her  skirt  and  her  pale  golden  hair  that  hung 
over  her  shoulders  and  said: 


236     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"I  wish  it  were  to-morrow  and  that  we  were  start- 
ing out  again!" 

2. 

Queen  Wilhelmina  was  very  expansive  in  her 
manner  and  yet  very  thoughtful.  Brought  up  in 
the  strictest  principles  by  a  watchful  and  inflex- 
ible mother,  she  had  learnt  from  childhood  to  shirk 
neither  work  nor  fatigue,  to  brave  the  inclemencies 
of  the  weather,  to  distinguish  herself  alike  in 
bodily  and  in  mental  exercises,  in  short,  to  prepare 
herself  in  the  most  serious  fashion  for  her  duties  as 
Queen  and  to  realise  all  the  hopes  that  were 
centred  on  her  young  head. 

I  often  had  occasion,  during  my  stay  at  the  Cor- 
bieres,  to  notice  the  thoroughness  of  her  education. 
She  already  spoke  four  languages,  in  addition  to 
her  mother-tongue,  fluently:  French,  Russian, 
English  and  German.  She  interested  herself  in 
agricultural  matters  and  was  not  unacquainted 
with  social  questions:  for  instance,  she  often  made 
me  talk  to  her  about  the  condition  of  the  workmen 
in  France  and  the  organisation  of  our  administra- 
tive systems ;  nay,  more,  she  was  beginning  to  study 
both  judicial  and  constitutional  law.  I  would  not, 
however,  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  this  study  aroused 
her  enthusiasm:  she  preferred  I  believe,  to  read 
historical  books;  she  took  a  great  interest  in  the 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  237 

Napoleonic  idyll  and,  knowing  me  to  be  a  fellow- 
countryman  of  Bonaparte: 

"You  must  feel  very  sorry,"  she  said  to  me,  one 
day,  "that  you  came  too  late  to  have  seen  him!" 

She  also  liked  to  talk  to  me  about  her  ponies : 

"I  have  four,"  she  told  me,  "and  I  drive  them 
four-in-hand." 

I  was  often  invited  to  share  the  meals  of  the 
miniature  court  and  to  take  my  seat  at  the  table 
of  the  chamberlains  and  ladies-in-waiting,  which 
was  presided  over,  with  charming  courtesy  and 
geniality,  by  my  excellent  friend  Count  Du  Mon- 
ceau,  who,  although  a  Dutch  general,  was  of 
French  origin,  as  his  name  shows.1 

At  one  of  these  dinners,  I  met  with  a  little  mishap 
which  gave  a  great  shock  to  both  my  patriotism 
and  to  my  natural  greediness.  The  cook  of  the 
villa,  M.  Perreard,  was  a  native  of  Marseilles  and 
owned  an  hotel  at  Cannes,  where  I  had  made  his 
acquaintance.  In  his  twofold  capacity  as  a  Mar- 
seillese  and  a  cook,  he  was  a  great  hand  at  making 
bouillabaisse,  the  national  dish  of  the  people  of  the 
south.  Now,  as  he  knew  that  I  was  very  fond  of 
this  dainty,  he  said  to  me  one  day,  with  a  great  air 
of  mystery : 

"M.  Paoli,  I  have  a  pleasant  surprise  in  store  for 

i  The  family  of  Dumonceau  is  of  Belgian  origin  and  derives  from 
an  ancestor  in  the  parish  of  Saint-Gery,  Brussels. — Translator's  Note. 


238     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

you  at  lunch  this  morning.  I  have  sent  to  Mar- 
seilles for  fish  and  shell-fish  so  as  to  give  you  a 
bouillabaisse  cooked  in  the  way  you  know  of.  Not 
another  word!  But  they'll  have  a  good  time  up 
there,  I  can  tell  you,  those  people  from  the  north 
who  have  never  tasted  it!" 

As  soon  as  we  had  sat  down,  I  saw  with  delight 
the  great  soup-tureen,  whence  escaped  a  delicious 
fragrance  of  bouillabaisse.  The  members  of  the 
royal  suite  cast  inquisitive  glances  at  this  dish  un- 
known to  them  and  prepared  to  do  honour  to 
it  with  a  good  grace.  Before  tasting  it  myself,  I 
watched  the  expression  of  their  faces.  Alas,  a 
grievous  disappointment  awaited  me !  Hardly  had 
they  touched  their  spoons  with  their  lips,  when  they 
gave  vent  to  their  disgust  in  different  ways. 
Baroness  van  Ittersum  made  a  significant  grimace, 
while  Jonkheer  van  Pabst  pushed  away  his  plate 
and  Baroness  Rengers  suppressed  a  gesture  of  re- 
pugnance. 

However,  out  of  consideration  for  my  feelings, 
they  were  silent:  so  was  I.  They  waited  in  all 
kindness  for  me  to  enjoy  my  treat;  but  one  act  of 
politeness  deserves  another;  there  was  nothing  for 
me  to  do,  in  my  turn,  but  to  forego  my  share,  all 
the  more  so  as  I  did  not  feel  inclined  to  present  the 
ridiculous  spectacle  of  a  man  eating  by  himself  a 
thing  which  all  his  neighbours  loathe  and  detest. 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  239 

The  bouillabaisse,  therefore,  disappeared 
straightway,  untouched  and  still  steaming,  beating, 
as  it  were,  a  silent  retreat.  But  I  will  not  attempt 
to  describe  the  rage  which  M.  Perreard  subse- 
quently poured  into  my  ear.  .  .  . 

3. 

When  the  Queen  had  explored  all  the  woods  and 
ravines  close  at  hand,  she  naturally  wished  to  ex- 
tend the  radius  of  her  excursions.  She  was  a  fear- 
less walker  and  was  not  to  be  thwarted  by  the  steep- 
est paths,  even  when  these  were  filled  with  snow  in 
which  one's  feet  sank  up  to  the  ankles.  I  ur- 
gently begged  the  young  sovereign  never  to  ven- 
ture far  afield  without  first  informing  me  of  her 
intentions.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  knew  how  easy 
it  was  to  lose  one's  self  in  the  maze  of  mountains, 
where  one  loses  the  trace  of  any  road;  and  I  was 
also  afraid  of  unpleasant  meetings,  for  Savoy  is 
often  infested  with  strangers  from  beyond  the 
Piedmontese  frontier  who  come  to  France  in  search 
of  work. 

Lastly  there  was  "the  black  man."  The  legend 
of  this  black  man  was  current  throughout  the  dis- 
trict, where  it  spread  a  secret  terror.  Stories  were 
told  in  the  hamlet  of  a  man  dressed  in  black  from 
head  to  foot,  who  roamed  at  nightfall  through  the 


£40    THEIR  MAJESTIES  As  I  KNEW  THEM 

neighbouring  forests.     He  had  eyes  of  fire  and  was 
frightfully  lean. 

The  peasants  were  convinced  that  it  was  a  ghost, 
for  he  never  answered  when  spoken  to  and  disap- 
peared as  soon  as  anyone  drew  near.  I  did  not, 
of  course,  share  the  superstitious  terrors  of  the  in- 
habitants of  the  Corbieres;  but  I  thought  that  the 
ghost  might  be  just  some  tramp  or  marauder  and 
I  did  not  care  for  the  Queens  to  come  across  him. 
Imagine  my  alarm,  therefore,  when,  one  afternoon, 
after  I  had  gone  down  to  Aix-les-Bains,  I  was 
handed  the  following  laconic  telegram: 

"Queen  gone  walk  without  giving  notice  late  in  returning." 

To  jump  into  the  funicular  railway  and  go  back 
to  the  Corbieres  was  for  me  the  work  of  a  few 
minutes.  There  I  heard  that  Queen  Wilhelmina 
had  gone  out  with  her  two  ladies-in-waiting,  say- 
ing that  she  meant  to  take  a  little  exercise,  as  she 
had  not  been  out  all  day,  and  that  she  would  be 
back  in  an  hour.  Two  hours  had  since  elapsed,  the 
Queen  had  not  returned  and  Queen  Emma  was 
beginning  to  feel  seriously  alarmed. 

I  at  once  rushed  out  in  search  of  Her  Majesty, 
questioning  the  people  whom  I  met  on  my  way. 
No  one  had  seen  her.  I  ran  into  the  forest,  where 
I  knew  that  she  was  fond  of  going;  I  called  out; 
no  reply.  More  and  more  anxious,  I  was  about 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  241 

to  hunt  in  another  direction,  when  my  eyes  fell  upon 
traces  of  feet  that  had  left  their  imprint  on  the 
snow.  I  examined  them:  the  foot-prints  were  too 
small  to  belong  to  a  man ;  they  had  evidently  been 
made  by  women's  shoes.  I  therefore  followed  the 
trail  as  carefully  as  an  Indian  hunter.  Nor  was  I 
mistaken:  after  half-an-hour's  walk,  I  heard  clear 
voices  calling  out  and  soon  I  saw  the  little  Queen 
arrive,  happy  and  careless,  followed  by  her  two 
companions : 

"Well,  M.  Paoli,  you  were  running  after  us,  I 
will  bet.  Just  think,  we  got  lost,  without  know- 
ing, and  were  looking  for  our  way.  It  was  great 
fun!" 

I  did  not  venture  to  admit  that  I  was  far  from 
sharing  this  opinion  and  I  confined  myself  to  warn- 
ing the  Queen  that  her  mother  was  anxious. 

"Then  let  us  hurry  back  as  fast  as  we  can,"  she 
said,  her  face  suddenly  becoming  overcast. 

And  I  have  no  doubt  that  Her  Majesty,  on  re- 
turning, was  soundly  scolded. 

Strangely  enough,  I  was  able  to  lay  my  hand  on 
"the  black  man"  on  the  evening  of  the  very  same 
day.  It  was  a  very  clear  night,  with  the  moon  shin- 
ing on  the  snow-clad  mountains,  and  I  resolved  to 
go  down  to  Aix  on  foot,  instead  of  using  the  funicu- 
lar railway.  I  therefore  took  the  path  that  led 
through  the  wood;  and,  on  reaching  a  glade  at  a 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

few  yards  from  the  royal  villa,  I  perceived  a 
shadow  that  appeared  to  be  hiding  behind  the 
trees. 

"There's  the  famous  black  man,"  I  thought. 

But,  as  the  shadow  had  all  the  air  of  an  animal 
of  the  human  species,  I  also  contemplated  the  pos- 
sible presence  of  an  anarchist  charged  to  watch  the 
approaches  to  the  royal  residence.  I  took  out  my 
revolver  and  shouted: 

"Who  goes  there?" 

"I,  monsieur  le  commissaire !"  replied  a  familiar 
voice,  while  the  shadow  took  shape,  emerged  from 
the  trees,  stepped  forward  and  gave  the  military 
salute. 

I  then  recognised  one  of  my  own  inspectors, 
whom  I  had  instructed  to  go  the  rounds  of  the 
precincts  of  the  Queens'  chalet  nightly.  He  was 
the  individual  who  had  been  taken  for  "the  black 
man."  However,  he  seemed  none  the  worse  for  it. 

4. 

When  the  Queen  had  visited  all  the  places  in  the 
immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  Corbieres  and 
tasted  sufficiently  of  the  pleasure  of  looking  upon 
herself  as  a  new  Little  Red  Riding-hood  in  her  wild 
solitudes,  or  a  new  Sleeping  Beauty  (whose  Prince 
Charming  was  not  to  come  until  many  years  later) , 
she  expressed  the  wish  to  go  on  the  longer  excur- 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  243 

sions  which  the  country-side  afforded.  We  there- 
fore set  out,  one  fine  morning,  for  the  Abbey  of 
Hautecombe,  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  poetic 
Lac  du  Bourget,  which  inspired  Lamartine  with 
one  of  his  most  beautiful  meditations. 

Although  standing  on  French  territory,  the  old 
Abbey  occupied  by  the  Cistercian  monks  continues 
to  belong  to  Italy,  or,  at  least,  remains  the  property 
of  the  royal  house  by  virtue  of  an  agreement  made 
between  the  two  governments  at  the  time  of  the 
French  annexation  of  Savoy  in  1860.  It  contains 
forty-three  tombs  of  Princes  and  Princesses  of 
the  House  of  Savoy.  All  the  ancestors  of  King 
Victor-Emanuel,  from  Amadeus  V  to  Humbert 
III  lie  under  the  charge  of  the  White  Fathers  in 
this  ancient  monastery  full  of  silence  and  majesty. 
Their  mausoleums  are  carved,  for  the  most  part, 
by  the  chisels  of  illustrious  sculptors;  they  stand 
side  by  side  in  the  great  nave  of  the  chapel,  which 
is  in  the  form  of  a  Latin  cross,  with  vaults  painted 
sky-blue  and  transepts  peopled  with  upwards  of 
three-hundred  statues  in  Carrara  marble.  These, 
crowded  together  within  that  narrow  fabric,  form 
as  it  were  a  motionless  and  reflective  crowd  watch- 
ing over  the  dead. 

The  visitor  bends  over  the  tombs  and  reads  the 
names  inscribed  upon  them;  and  all  the  adventur- 
ous, chivalrous,  heroic  and  gallant  history  of  the 


244     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

House  of  Savoy  comes  to  life  again.  Here  lies 
Amadeus,  surnamed  the  Red  Count,  and  Phili- 
bert  I  the  Hunter;  further  on,  we  come  to  Maria 
Christina  of  Bourbon- Savoy,  Joan  of  Montfort, 
and  Boniface  of  Savoy,  the  prince  who  became 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury ; l  further  still  is  the  tomb 
of  the  young  and  charming  Yolande  of  Montferrat, 
who  sleeps  beside  her  father,  Aymon  the  Peaceful. 
Lastly,  at  the  entrance  of  the  church,  in  the  chapel 
of  Our  Lady  of  the  Angels,  stands  the  sarcophagus 
of  Charles  Felix,  King  of  Sardinia,  who  restored 
Hautecombe  in  1842.  The  old  standard  of  the 
Bodyguards  of  the  Savoy  Company  shelters  him 
beneath  its  folds,  which  have  ceased  to  flutter  many 
a  long  century  ago. 

This  fine  historical  lesson  within  a  monastic 
sanctuary  interested  the  two  Dutch  Queens  greatly. 
It  made  Queen  Wilhelmina  very  thoughtful,  es- 
pecially at  a  given  moment  when  the  monk  who 
acted  as  her  guide  said,  with  a  touch  of  pride  in 
his  voice : 

"The  House  of  Savoy  is  a  glorious  house!" 
After  a  second's  pause,  the  little  Queen  replied: 
"So  is  the  House  of  Orange!     .     .     ." 

i  Boniface  of  Savoy  was  nominated  to  the  Archbishopric  of  Canter- 
bury, in  1241,  by  King  Henry  III  of  England,  who  had  married 
Boniface's  niece  Eleanor,  daughter  of  Raymond  Berengar,  Count  of 
Provence,  and  Beatrix  of  Savoy.— Translator's  Note. 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  24*5 

A  few  days  after  our  excursion  to  Hautecombe, 
we  went  to  visit  the  Cascade  de  Gresy,  a  sort  of 
furious  torrent  in  which  Marshal  Ney's  sister,  the 
Baronne  de  Broc,  was  drowned  in  1818  before  the 
eyes  of  Queen  Hortense,  the  mother  of  Napoleon 
III.  We  also  drove  to  the  Gorges  du  Fier,  in 
which  no  human  being  had  dared  to  venture  before 
1869.  Queen  Wilhelmina,  ever  eager  for  emo- 
tional impressions,  insisted  on  penetrating  at  all 
costs  through  the  narrow  passage  that  leads  into 
the  gorges.  The  Queen  Mother  lived  through 
minutes  of  agony  that  day,  although  I  did  my  best 
to  persuade  Her  Majesty  that  her  daughter  was 
not  really  incurring  any  danger.  But  there  is  no 
convincing  an  anxious  mother ! 

Stimulated  by  these  various  excursions,  the  little 
Queen  said  to  me,  one  morning: 

"M.  Paoli,  I  have  formed  a  great  plan.  My 
mother  approves.  I  want  to  go  and  see  the  Grande 
Chartreuse." 

"That  is  easily  done,"  I  replied,  "but  it  will  take 
a  whole  day,  for  the  monastery  is  a  good  distance 
from  here." 

"Well,  M.  Paoli,  arrange  the  excursion  as  you 
think  best:  with  the  snow  on  the  ground,  it  will  be 
magnificent !" 

I  wrote  to  the  Father  Superior  to  tell  him  of  the 
Queen's  wish.  He  answered  by  return  that,  to  his 


246     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

great  regret,  he  was  unable  to  open  the  doors  of 
the  monastery  to  women,  even  though  they  were 
Queens,  without  the  express  authorisation  of  the 
Pope.  And  indeed  I  remembered  that  the  same 
objection  had  arisen  some  years  earlier,  when  I 
wanted  to  take  Queen  Victoria  to  the  Grande  Char- 
treuse: I  had  to  apply  to  Rome  on  that  occasion 
also. 

I  therefore  hastened  to  communicate  the  answer 
to  General  Du  Monceau,  who  at  once  telegraphed 
to  Cardinal  Rampolla,  at  that  time  Secretary  of 
State  to  the  Holy  See.  Cardinal  Rampolla  tele- 
graphed the  same  evening  that  the  Pope  granted 
the  necessary  authority. 

These  diplomatic  preliminaries  gave  an  addi- 
tional zest  to  our  expedition.  For  it  was  a  genuine 
expedition.  We  left  Aix-les-Bains  at  eight  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  by  special  train,  for  Saint-Beron, 
which  was  then  the  terminus  of  the  railway,  before 
entering  the  great  mountain.  Here,  two  landaus 
with  horses  and  postilions  awaited  us.  The  two 
Queens  and  their  ladies  stepped  into  one  of  the 
carriages ;  General  Du  Monceau,  the  officers  of  the 
suite  and  I  occupied  the  other ;  and  we  started.  It 
was  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  we  had  a 
three  hours'  drive  before  us.  Notwithstanding  the 
intense  cold,  a  flood  of  sunshine  fell  upon  the  im- 
mense frozen  and  deserted  mountain-mass  and  lit 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  247 

up  with  a  blinding  flame  the  long  sheets  of  snow  that 
lay  stretching  to  the  horizon,  where  they  seemed  to 
be  merged  in  the  deep  blue  of  the  sky.  No  sign  of 
life  appeared  in  that  sea  of  mountains,  amid  the 
throng  of  dissimilar  summits,  some  blunt,  some 
pointed,  but  all  girt  at  their  base  with  huge  pine- 
forests.  Only  the  rhythmical  tinkling  of  our 
harness-bells  disturbed  the  deep  silence. 

We  began  to  feel  the  pangs  of  hunger  after  an 
hour's  driving.  I  had  foreseen  that  we  should  find 
no  inn  on  the  road  and  had  taken  care  to  have 
baskets  of  provisions  stored  in  the  boot  of  each  car- 
riage at  Saint-Beron. 

"That's  a  capital  idea,"  said  Queen  Wilhelmina. 
"You  shall  lunch  with  us.  I  will  lay  the  cloth!" 

The  carriages  had  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the 
road,  in  the  vast  solitude,  opposite  the  prodigious 
panorama  of  white  mountains  and  gloomy  valleys. 
The  little  Queen  spread  a  large  table-napkin  over 
our  knees.  From  the  depths  of  a  hamper,  she  pro- 
duced a  cold  chicken,  rolls  and  butter  and  solemnly 
announced : 

"Luncheon  is  served." 

Served  by  a  Queen,  in  a  carriage,  on  a  mountain- 
top  :  that  was  an  incident  lacking  to  my  collection, 
as  King  Alfonso  would  have  said!  I  need  hardly 
add  that  this  picturesque  luncheon  was  extremely 
lively  and  that  not  a  vestige  of  it  remained  when, 


248     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

at  two  o'clock,  we  approached  the  Grande  Char- 
treuse. 

We  caught  sight  first  of  the  square  tower,  then 
of  the  great  slate  roofs,  then  of  the  countless 
steeples,  until,  at  last,  in  the  fold  of  a  valley,  the 
impressive  block  of  buildings  came  into  view,  all 
grey  amidst  its  white  setting  and  backed  by  the 
snow-covered  forests  scrambling  to  the  summit  of 
the  Col  de  la  Ruchere.  Perched  amidst  this  im- 
maculate steppe,  among  those  spurs  bristling  with 
contorted  and  threatening  rocks,  as  though  in  some 
apocalyptic  landscape,  the  cold,  stern,  proud  con- 
vent froze  us  with  a  nameless  terror :  it  seemed  to  us 
as  though  we  had  reached  the  mysterious  regions  of 
a  Wagnerian  Walhalla;  the  fairy-tale  had  turned 
into  a  legend,  through  which  the  flaxen-haired 
figure  of  the  little  Queen  passed  like  a  light  and 
airy  shadow. 

All  the  inhabitants  of  the  monastery  stood  await- 
ing the  Queens  at  the  threshold  of  the  gateway. 
The  monks  were  grouped  around  their  superior; 
their  white  frocks  mingled  with  the  depths  of  the 
immense  corridor,  the  endless  straight  line  of  which 
showed  through  the  open  door. 

The  Father  Superior  stepped  forward  to  greet 
the  two  Queens.  Tall  in  stature,  with  the  face  of 
an  ascetic,  a  pair  of  piercing  eyes,  an  harmonious 
voice  and  a  cold  dignity  combined  with  an  exquisite 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  249 

courtesy,  he  had  the  grand  manner  of  the  well-bred 
man  of  the  world: 

"Welcome  to  Your  Majesties,"  he  said,  slowly, 
with  a  bow. 

The  Queens,  a  little  awestruck,  made  excuses  for 
their  curiosity;  and  the  inspection  began.  The 
monks  led  their  royal  visitors  successively  through 
the  cloister,  the  refectories,  the  fine  library,  which 
at  that  time  contained  over  twenty-thousand 
volumes,  the  rooms  devoted  to  work  and  meditation, 
each  of  which  bore  the  name  of  a  country  or  prov- 
ince, because  formerly  they  served  as  meeting- 
places  for  the  priors  of  the  charter-houses  of  each 
of  those  countries  or  provinces.  They  showed  their 
kitchen,  with  its  table  formed  of  a  block  of  marble 
nine  yards  long  and  its  chimney  of  colossal  pro- 
portions. They  threw  open  the  great  chapter- 
house decorated  with  twenty-two  portraits  of  the 
generals  of  the  order  from  its  foundation  and 
furnished  with  lofty  stalls  in  which  the  monks  used 
to  come  and  sit  when,  twice  a  year,  they  held  their 
secret  assembly.  They  showed  their  exiguous  cells, 
with  their  tiled  floors  and  whitewashed  walls,  each 
containing  a  truckle-bed,  a  praying-chair,  a  table, 
a  crucifix  and  a  window  opening  upon  the  vast 
and  splendid  horizon  of  the  fierce  mountains  be- 
yond. Lastly,  they  showed  their  church,  with  its 
Gothic  carvings  surmounted  by  a  statue  of  death, 


250     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

and  their  desolate  and  monotonous  cemetery,  in 
which  only  the  graves  of  the  priors  are  distinguished 
by  a  wooden  cross.  But  they  did  not  show  their 
relics  and  their  precious  sacred  books.  I  expressed 
my  astonishment  at  this ;  and  one  of  the  fathers  re- 
plied, coldly: 

"That  is  because  the  Queens  are  heretics.  We 
only  show  them  to  Catholics." 

Queen  Wilhelmina,  who  had  gradually  recovered 
her  assurance,  plied  the  superior  with  questions,  to 
which  he  replied  with  a  perfect  good  grace.  When, 
at  last,  the  walk  through  the  maze  of  passages  and 
cloisters  was  finished,  the  Queen  hesitated  and  then 
asked : 

"And  the  chartreuse?  Don't  you  make  that 
here?" 

"Certainly,  Ma'am,"  said  the  prior,  "but  we  did 
not  think  that  our  distillery  could  interest  Your 
Majesty." 

"Oh,  but  it  does!"  answered  the  Queen,  with  a 
smile.  "I  want  to  see  everything." 

We  were  then  taken  to  the  "Mill,"  situated  at 
an  hour's  distance  from  the  monastery,  where  the 
Carthusians,  with  their  sleeves  turned  back,  pre- 
pared the  delicious  liqueur  the  secret  of  which  they 
have  now  taken  with  them  in  their  exile.  The 
Queens  put  their  lips  to  a  glass  of  yellow  elixir 
offered  to  them  by  the  superior  and  accepted  a  few 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  251 

bottles  as  a  present.     The  visit  had  interested  them 
prodigiously. 

Half  an  hour  later,  we  had  left  the  convent  far 
behind  us  in  its  stately  solitude  and  were  driving 
down  the  other  slope  of  the  mountain  to  Grenoble, 
where  we  were  to  find  a  special  train  to  take  us  back 
to  Aix-les-Bains.  When  we  approached  the  old 
Dauphine  capital,  the  day  had  turned  into  a  night 
of  black  and  icy  darkness;  in  front  of  us,  in  the 
depths  of  the  valley,  all  the  lamps  of  the  great  city 
displayed  their  thousands  of  twinkling  lights;  and 
Queen  Wilhelmina  kept  on  exclaiming: 
"How  beautiful  1  How  delighted  I  am  I" 
She  was  not  so  well  pleased — nor  was  I — when, 
at  the  gate  of  the  town,  we  saw  cyclists  who  ap- 
peared to  be  on  the  look-out  for  our  carriages  and 
who  darted  off  as  scouts  before  our  landaus  as  soon 
as  they  perceived  us.  These  mysterious  proceed- 
ings were  all  the  more  insoluble  to  me  as  I  had 
taken  care  not  to  inform  the  authorities  of  Grenoble 
that  the  Queens  intended  to  pass  through  their  city, 
knowing  as  I  did,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  munici- 
pal council  was  composed  of  socialists  and,  on  the 
other,  that  Their  Majesties  wished  to  preserve  the 
strictest  incognito.  But  I  had  reckoned  without  the 
involuntary  indiscretion  of  the  railway  staff,  who 
had  allowed  the  fact  to  leak  out  that  a  special  train 
had  been  ordered  for  the  sovereigns ;  and,  as  no  one 


252     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

is  more  anxious  to  receive  a  smile  from  royalty  than 
the  stern,  uncompromising  adherents  of  Messrs. 
Jaures  &  Co.,  the  first  arm  that  was  respectfully 
put  out  to  assist  Queen  Wilhelmina  to  alight  from 
the  carriage  was  that  of  the  socialist  senator  who, 
that  year,  was  serving  as  Mayor  of  Grenoble.  He 
was  all  honey ;  he  had  prepared  a  speech ;  he  had  pro- 
vided a  band.  Willy-nilly,  we  had  to  submit  to  an 
official  reception.  True,  we  were  amply  compen- 
sated, as  the  train  steamed  out  of  the  station,  by 
hearing  cries  of  "Long  live  the  Queen!"  issuing  from 
the  throats  of  men  who  spent  the  rest  of  the  year 
in  shouting,  "Down  with  tyrants !" 

Such  is  the  eternal  comedy  of  politics  and  man- 
kind. 

5. 

The  Queens'  stay  at  the  Corbieres  was  drawing  to 
a  close.  We  had  exhausted  all  the  walks  and  ex- 
cursions ;  the  cold  was  becoming  daily  more  intense ; 
the  icy  wind  whistled  louder  than  ever  under  the 
ill-fitting  doors.  At  the  royal  chalet,  the  little 
Queen  was  growing  tired  of  sketching  young  herds 
with  their  flocks  or  old  peasant-women  combing 
wool.  One  morning,  General  Du  Monceau  said  to 
me: 

"Their  Majesties  have  decided  to  go  to  Italy 
They  will  start  for  Milan  the  day  after  to-morrow." 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  253 

Two  days  later,  I  left  them  at  the  frontier;  and, 
as  I  was  taking  my  leave  of  them: 

"We  shall  meet  again,"  said  Queen  Wilhelmina. 
"I  am  longing  to  see  Paris." 

She  did  not  realise  her  wish  until  two  years  later. 
It  was  in  the  spring  of  1898 — a  year  made  memo- 
rable in  her  life  because  it  marked  her  political 
majority  and  the  commencement  of  her  real  reign 
— that,  accompanied  by  her  mother,  she  paid  a  first 
visit  to  Paris  on  her  way  to  Cannes  for  the  wedding 
of  Prince  Christian  of  Denmark  (the  present 
Crown-prince)  and  the  Grand-duchess  Mary  of 
Mecklenburg-  Strelitz. 

"Do  you  remember  the  day  when  we  went  to  the 
Grande  Chartreuse?"  were  her  first  words  on  see- 
ing me. 

She  still  had  her  bright,  childish  glance,  but  she 
now  wore  her  pretty  hair  done  up  high,  as  befitted 
her  age,  and  her  figure  had  filled  out  in  a  way  that 
seemed  to  accentuate  her  radiant  air  of  youth. 

Anecdotes  were  told  of  her  playfulness  that  con- 
trasted strangely  with  her  sedate  appearance. 
Chief  among  them  was  the  well-known  story  accord- 
ing to  which  she  loved  to  tease  her  English  gover- 
ness, Miss  Saxton  Winter:  all  Holland  had  heard 
how,  one  day,  when  drawing  a  map  of  Europe,  she 
amused  herself  by  enlarging  the  frontiers  of  the 
Netherlands  out  of  all  proportion  and  considerably 


254     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

reducing  those  of  great  Britain.  Another  story 
was  that,  having  regretfully  failed  to  induce  the 
postal  authorities  to  alter  her  portrait  on  the  Dutch 
stamps,  which  still  represented  her  as  a  little  girl, 
with  her  hair  down,  she  never  omitted  with  her  own 
pen  to  correct  the  postage-stamps  which  she  used 
for  her  private  correspondence ! 

These  childish  ways  did  not  prevent  her  from 
manifesting  a  keen  interest  in  poetry  and  art.  Her 
favourite  reading  was  represented  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott  and  Alexandre  Dumas  the  Elder;  but  she 
also  read  books  on  history  and  painting  with  the 
greatest  pleasure.  She  had  acquired  a  remarkable 
erudition  on  these  subjects  in  the  course  of  her 
studies,  as  I  had  occasion  to  learn  during  our  visits 
to  the  museums,  especially  the  Louvre.  She  was 
familiar  with  the  Italian  and  French  schools  of 
painting  as  with  the  Dutch  and  Flemish,  although 
she  maintained  a  preference  for  Rembrandt: 

"I  should  like  him  to  have  a  statue  in  every  town 
in  Holland !"  she  used  to  say. 

Nevertheless,  the  artistic  beauties  of  Paris  did 
not,  of  course,  absorb  her  attention  to  the  extent 
of  causing  her  to  disregard  the  attractions  and 
temptations  which  our  capital  offers  to  the  curiosity 
of  a  young  and  elegant  woman  who  does  not  scorn 
the  fascination  of  dress.  Queen  Wilhelmina  used 
to  go  into  ecstasies  over  the  beauty  and  luxury  of 


QUEEN  WILHELMINA  255 

our  shops ;  and  Queen  Emma  would  have  the  great- 
est difficulty  in  dragging  her  from  the  windows  of 
the  tradesmen  in  the  Rue  Royale  and  the  Rue  de  la 
Paix.  It  nearly  always  ended  with  a  visit  to  the 
shop  and  the  making  of  numerous  purchases. 

The  little  Queen  won  the  affection  of  all  with 
whom  she  came  into  contact  by  her  simplicity,  her 
frankness  and  the  charming  innocence  with  which 
she  indulged  in  the  sheer  delight  of  living.  Al- 
though possessed  of  an  easy  and  ready  admiration, 
she  remained  Dutch  at  heart  and  professed  a  proud 
and  exclusive  patriotism. 

"I  can  understand,"  said  President  Felix  Faure 
to  me,  on  the  day  after  the  visit  which  he  paid  to 
the  two  Queens,  "that  the  Dutch  nation  shows  an 
exemplary  loyalty  to  Queen  Wilhelmina.  It  rec- 
ognises itself  in  her." 

Indeed,  nowhere  is  the  sovereign  more  securely 
installed  than  in  Holland,  nor  does  the  work  of 
government  proceed  anywhere  more  smoothly.  In 
Holland,  constitutional  rule  performs  its  functions 
automatically,  while  the  budget  balances  regularly, 
year  by  year,  thanks  to  the  colonies  and  trade. 
Happy  country.  What  other  state  can  say  as  much 
to-day? 

A  week  after  their  arrival  in  Paris,  the  two 
Queens  left  for  Cannes.  I  had  been  called  south 
by  my  service  in  waiting  on  Queen  Victoria,  who 


256     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

had  just  gone  to  Cannes  herself,  and  I  was  obliged 
to  leave  a  few  days  before  Their  Majesties.  But 
I  met  them  again  at  the  Danish  wedding,  which  was 
so  picturesque  and  poetic  in  its  Mediterranean  set- 
ting. 

I  saw  Queen  Wilhelmina  for  the  last  time  shortly 
before  her  departure  for  Holland.  It  was  in  the 
late  afternoon,  at  the  moment  when  the  sun  was 
on  the  point  of  disappearing  behind  the  palm-trees 
in  the  garden  of  the  hotel  where  the  Queen  of  Eng- 
land had  taken  up  her  residence.  Queen  Wil- 
helmina had  come  to  say  good-bye ;  she  was  standing 
in  an  attitude  of  timid  deference  before  the  old 
sovereign  seated  in  her  bath-chair.  Both  Queens 
were  smiling  and  talking  merrily.  Then  Wilhel- 
mina, stooped,  kissed  Queen  Victoria  on  the  fore- 
head and  tripped  awajr  lightly  in  the  golden  rays  of 
the  setting  sun. 

She  has  not  returned  to  France  since  then. 


VIII 
THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS 

1. 

OF  all  the  sovereigns  with  whom  I  have  been 
connected  in  the  course  of  my  career,  Leo- 
pold II  is  perhaps  the  one  whom  I  knew 
best,  with  the  circumstances  of  whose  private  life 
I  was  most  intimately  acquainted  and  whose 
thoughts  and  soul  I  was  nevertheless  least  able  to 
fathom,  for  the  simple  reason  that  his  thoughts  were 
impenetrable  and  his  soul  remained  closed.  Was 
this  due  to  excessive  egotism  or  supreme  indiffer- 
ence? To  both,  perhaps.  He  was  as  baffling  as  a 
puzzle,  carried  banter  occasionally  to  the  verge  of 
insolence  and  cynicism  to  that  of  cruelty;  and,  if,  at 
times,  he  yielded  to  fits  of  noisy  gaiety,  if,  from 
behind  the  rough  exterior,  there  sometimes  shot  an 
impulse  of  unexpected  kindness,  these  were  but 
passing  gleams.  He  promptly  recovered  his  won- 
derful self-control;  and  those  about  him  were  too 
greatly  fascinated  by  his  intelligence  to  seek  to  un- 
derstand his  habit  of  mind  or  heart.  And  yet, 

259 


260     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

though  fascinating,  he  was  as  uncommunicative  as 
it  is  possible  to  be ;  he  possessed  none  of  the  external 
attractions  of  the  intellect  which  captivate  and 
charm;  but,  whenever  he  deigned  to  grant  you  the 
honour  of  an  interview,  however  brief,  you  at  once 
discovered  in  him  a  prodigious  brain,  a  luminous 
perspicacity  and  critical  powers  of  amazing  subtlety 
and  keenness. 

No  sovereign  used — and  abused — all  the  springs 
of  his  physical  and  moral  activity,  to  a  greater  ex- 
tent than  did  Leopold  II  to  his  dying  day.  An 
everlasting  traveller,  passing  without  cessation  from 
a  motor-car  into  a  train,  from  a  train  on  to  a  boat, 
caring  little  for  the  delights  of  sleep,  he  worked  con- 
tinuously, whether  in  the  presence  of  some  fine  view, 
or  at  sea,  or  at  meals,  or  in  the  train,  or  in  his  hotel, 
or  on  a  walk;  the  place  and  the  hour  mattered  to 
him  but  little. 

"Monsieur  Tofficier,  take  down!"  he  would  say 
to  his  equerry,  at  the  most  unexpected  moment. 

And  "monsieur  1'officier" — his  only  form  of  ad- 
dress for  the  officers  of  his  suite — drew  out  a  note- 
book, seized  a  pencil  and  took  down  "by  way  of 
memorandum,"  to  the  slow,  precise  and  certain  dic- 
tation of  the  king,  the  wording  of  a  letter,  a  report 
or  a  scheme  relating  to  the  multifarious  operations  in 
which  Leopold  II  was  interested.  Contrary  to 
the  majority  of  monarchs,  who  took  with  them  on 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     261 

their  holidays  a  regular  arsenal  of  papers  and  a 
yery  library  of  records,  Leopold  carried  in  the  way 
of  reference  books,  nothing  but  a  little  English- 
French  dictionary,  which  he  slipped  into  the  pocket 
of  his  overcoat  and  consulted  for  the  purpose  of  the 
voluminous  correspondence  which  he  conducted  in 
connexion  with  Congo  affairs: 

"It  is  no  use  my  knowing  English  thoroughly," 
he  confessed  to  me,  one  day.  "Those  British  offi- 
cials sometimes  employ  phrases  of  which  I  do  not  al- 
ways grasp  the  full  meaning  and  scope.  I  must 
fish  out  my  lexicon!" 

On  the  other  hand,  he  had  needed  no  assistance  in 
order  to  work  out  his  complicated  and  gigantic  fi- 
nancial combinations.  He  possessed,  if  I  may  say 
so,  the  bump  of  figures.  For  hours  at  a  time,  he 
would  indulge  in  intricate  calculations  and  his  ac- 
counts never  showed  a  hesitation  or  an  erasure.  In 
the  same  way,  when  abroad,  he  treated  affairs  of 
state  with  a  like  lucidity.  If  he  thought  it  useful 
to  consult  a  specialist  in  certain  matters,  he  would 
send  for  him  to  come  to  where  he  was,  question  him 
and  send  him  away,  often  after  teaching  the  ex- 
pert a  good  many  things  about  his  own  profession 
which  he  did  not  know  before.  And  the  king  there- 
upon made  up  his  mind  in  the  full  exercise  of  his  in- 
dependent and  sovereign  will. 

"My  ministers,"  he  would  say,  with  that  jeering 


262     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

air  of  his,  "are  often  idiots.     But  they  can  afford  the 
luxury:  they  have  only  to  do  as  I  tell  them." 

Leopold  II  did  not  always,  however,  take  this 
view  of  the  constitutional  monarchy.  For  instance, 
a  few  months  before  his  death,  one  of  his  ministers 
was  reading  a  report  to  him  in  the  presence  of  the 
heir  presumptive — now  King  Albert — when  the 
wind,  blowing  through  the  open  window  of  the 
royal  waiting-room,  sent  a  bundle  of  papers,  on 
the  King's  desk,  flying  all  over  the  carpet.  The 
minister  was  rushing  forward  to  pick  them  up,  when 
the  King  caught  him  by  the  sleeve  and,  turning  to 
his  nephew,  said: 

"Pick  them  up  yourself." 

And,  when  the  minister  protested : 

"Leave  him  alone,"  whispered  Leopold.  "A 
future  constitutional  sovereign  must  learn  to 
stoop!" 

An  autocrat  in  his  actions,  he  affected  to  be  a 
democrat  in  his  principles. 

It  matters  little  whether  his  methods  were  rep- 
rehensible or  not:  history  will  say  that  Leopold  II 
was  to  Belgium  the  artisan  of  an  unequalled  pros- 
perity, although  it  is  true  that  he  was  nearly  al- 
ways absent  from  his  country.  The  fact  is  that 
he  loved  France  at  least  as  well  as  Belgium.  He 
loved  the  Riviera  and,  above  all,  he  loved  the 
capital.  He  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  drag- 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     263 

ging  his  white  beard  away  from  the  Paris  radius; 
and,  when,  by  chance,  it  was  eclipsed  for  a  week 
or  two,  it  continued  to  figure  in  the  magazines,  in 
the  illustrated  and  comic  papers  and  on  the  posters 
that  advertised  cheap  tailors,  tonic  pills  or  re- 
cuperative nostrums.  Leopold  II,  therefore,  was 
a  Parisian  personality  in  the  full  glory  of  the  word. 
True,  he  never  achieved  the  air  of  elegance  that 
distinguished  Edward  VII.  You  would  have 
looked  for  him  in  vain  on  the  balcony  of  the  club, 
on  the  asphalt  of  the  boulevards,  in  a  stage-box 
at  the  theatre,  in  the  paddock  at  Longchamp. 
But,  should  you  happen  to  meet  in  the  Tuileries 
Gardens,  in  the  old  streets  of  the  Latin  Quarter 
or,  more  likely  still,  along  the  quays,  a  man 
wrapped  in  a  long  dark  ulster,  wearing  a  pair  of 
goloshes  over  his  enormous  boots  and  a  black 
bowler  on  his  head,  carrying  in  his  hand  an  um- 
brella that  had  seen  better  days  and  under  his  arm 
a  bundle  of  yellow-backed  books  or  a  knickknack 
of  some  sort  packed  up  anyhow  in  a  newspaper; 
should  you  catch  sight  of  a  lean  and  lanky  Ghent 
burgess  rooted  in  silent  contemplation  of  the  front 
of  the  Louvre,  or  the  porch  of  Saint- Germain- 
1'Auxerrois,  or  the  gates  of  the  Ecole  des  Beaux- 
Arts;  should  you  perceive  him  haggling  for  a 
musty  old  book  at  the  corner  of  the  Pont  des 
Saints-Peres  and  counting  the  money  twice  over 


264     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

before  paying,  then  you  could  safely  have  gone 
home  and  said: 

"I  saw  the  King  of  the  Belgians  to-day." 

I  often  accompanied  him  on  these  strolls  in  the 
course  of  which  the  artist  and  book-lover  that  lay 
hidden  in  him  found  many  an  occasion  for  secret 
and  silent  joys;  for  the  King,  who  hated  music, 
who  bored  himself  at  the  theatre  and  who  despised 
every  manifestation  of  the  art  of  to-day,  had  a 
real  passion  for  old  pictures,  fine  architecture,  rare 
curiosities  and  flowers. 

"Monsieur  le  commissaire,"  he  would  often  say, 
with  his  fondness  for  official  titles,  in  his  strong 
Belgian  accent,  "we  will  go  for  an  excursion  to- 
day with  monsieur  1'officier." 

And  the  "excursion"  nearly  always  ended  by 
taking  us  to  some  old  curiosity  shop  or  to  the 
Musee  Carnavalet,  or  to  the  flower-market  on  the 
Quai  de  la  Tournelle. 

In  the  later  years  of  his  life,  however,  he  had  to 
give  up  his  walks  in  town:  he  was  attacked  by  sci- 
atica, which  stiffened  his  left  leg  and  prevented  him 
from  walking  except  with  the  aid  of  two  sticks  or 
leaning  on  his  secretary's  arm.  Also,  the  fact  that 
he  had — not  always  justly — been  made  the  absurd 
hero  of  certain  gay  adventures,  subjected  him  to 
an  irksome  popularity  which  caused  him  genuine 
annoyance.  He  was  ridiculed  in  the  music-halls 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     265 

and  in  the  scandal-mongering  press;  caricatures  of 
him  were  displayed  in  all  the  newsvendors'  windows. 

This  stupid  and  sometimes  spiteful  interest  in 
his  movements  was  a  positive  affliction  to  him.  We 
did  our  best,  of  course,  to  prevent  his  seeing  the 
satirical  drawings  in  which  he  figured  in  attitudes 
unbecoming  to  the  dignity  of  a  king;  but  we  did 
not  always  succeed.  Fortunately,  his  sense  of  hu- 
mour exceeded  any  grudge  which  he  may  have  felt. 
Remembering  that  he  possessed  an  astonishing 
double  in  the  person  of  an  old  Parisian  called  M. 
Mabille,  he  never  failed  to  exclaim  when,  by  some 
unlucky  chance,  his  eyes  fell  upon  a  caricature  of 
his  royal  features: 

"There,  they're  teasing  that  unfortunate  M. 
Mabille  again!  And  how  like  me  he  is!  Lord, 
how  like  me  he  is!" 

His  habit  of  icy  chaff  made  one  feel  perpetually 
ill  at  ease  when  he  happened  to  be  in  a  conversa- 
tional vein.  One  never  knew  if  he  was  serious  or 
joking.  This  tall,  rough-hewn  old  man  had  a  trick 
of  stinging  repartee  under  an  outward  appearance 
of  innocent  good-nature  and,  better  than  anyone 
that  I  have  ever  met,  understood  the  delicate  art 
of  teaching  a  lesson  to  those  who  ventured  upon  an 
improper  remark  or  an  unseemly  familiarity  in  his 
presence. 

One  evening,  at  a  reception  which  he  was  giving 


266     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

to  the  authorities  in  his  chalet  at  Ostende,  the  ven- 
erable rector  of  the  parish  came  up  to  him  with  an 
air  of  concern  and  drawing  him  respectfully  aside, 
said: 

"Sir,  I  feel  profoundly  grieved.  There  is  a 
rumour,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  that  your  Majesty's 
private  life  is  not  marked  by  the  austerity  suited 
to  the  lofty  and  difficult  task  which  the  Lord  has 
laid  upon  the  monarchs  of  this  earth.  Remember, 
Sir,  that  it  behooves  kings  to  set  an  example  to 
their  subjects." 

And  the  worthy  rector,  taking  courage  from  the 
fact  that  he  had  known  Leopold  II  for  thirty  years, 
preached  him  a  long  sermon.  The  penitent,  adopt- 
ing an  air  of  contrition,  listened  to  the  homily  with- 
out moving  a  muscle.  When,  at  last,  the  priest 
had  exhausted  his  eloquence : 

"What  a  funny  thing,  monsieur  le  cure!"  mur- 
mured the  King,  fixing  him  with  that  cold  glance 
of  his,  from  under  his  wrinkled  eye-lids.  "Do  you 
know,  people  have  told  me  exactly  the  same  thing 
about  you!  Only  I  refused  to  believe  it,  you 
know!"  l 

That  was  a  delicious  sally,  too,  in  which  he  in- 
dulged at  the  expense  of  a  certain  Brazilian  min- 

i  The  late  King  of  the  Belgians  shared  the  national  peculiarity  of 
interlarding  his  French  with  a  succession  of  savez-vous. — Trans- 
lator's Note. 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     267 

ister,  who  was  paying  his  first  visit  to  court,  and 
who  appeared  to  be  under  the  impression  that  the 
King  was  hard  of  hearing.  At  any  rate,  he  made 
the  most  extraordinary  efforts  to  speak  loud  and 
to  pronounce  his  words  distinctly.  The  King 
maintained  an  impassive  countenance,  but  ended  by 
interrupting  him: 

"Excuse  me,  monsieur  le  ministre,"  he  said,  with 
an  exquisite  smile.  "I'm  not  deaf,  you  know:  it's 
my  brother!" 

Picture  the  diplomatist's  face ! 

Lastly,  let  me  recall  his  caustic  reply  to  one  of 
our  most  uncompromising  radical  deputies,  who 
was  being  received  in  audience  and  who,  falling 
under  the  spell  of  King  Leopold's  obvious  intelli- 
gence, said  to  him,  point-blank: 

"Sir,  I  am  a  republican.  I  do  not  hold  with 
monarchies  and  kings.  Nevertheless,  I  recognise 
your  great  superiority  and  I  confess  that  you  would 
make  an  admirable  president  of  a  republic  I" 

"Really?"  replied  the  King,  with  his  most  in- 
genuous air.  "Really?  Do  you  know,  I  think  I 
shall  pay  a  compliment  in  your  style  to  my  phy- 
sician, Dr.  Thirier,  who  is  coming  to  see  me  pres- 
ently. I  shall  say,  'Thirier,  you  are  a  great  doctor 
and  I  think  you  would  make  an  excellent  veterinary 
surgeon!' ' 

The  poor  opinion  which  he  entertained  of  the 


268     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

republic,  as  this  story  would  appear  to  show,  did 
not  prevent  him  from  treating  it  with  the  greatest 
respect.  Of  all  the  foreign  sovereigns,  Leopold  II 
was  certainly  the  one  who  kept  up  the  most  cordial 
relations  with  our  successive  presidents.  At  each 
of  his  visits  to  Paris,  he  never  failed  to  go  to  the 
Elysee.  He  called  as  a  neighbour,  as  a  friend 
without  even  announcing  his  visit  beforehand. 
When  M.  Fallieres  was  elected  President  at  the 
Versailles  congress,  the  first  visit  which  he  received, 
on  his  return  to  the  Senate,  where  he  was  then  liv- 
ing, was  that  of  Leopold  II. 

Nevertheless,  whatever  personal  sympathy  he 
may  have  felt  for  France,  the  King  of  the  Belgians 
always  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  sentimental  considera- 
tions ;  and  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  ascribe 
to  such  considerations  the  very  marked  courtesy 
which  he  showed  to  the  official  republican  world. 
In  my  opinion,  this  attitude  is  due  to  several  causes. 
In  the  first  place,  he  reckoned  that  France  was  a 
useful  factor  in  the  development  of  Belgian  pros- 
perity and  that  it  was  wise  to  increase  the  economic 
links  that  united  the  two  countries.  On  the  other 
hand,  what  would  have  become  of  his  colonial  en- 
terprise in  the  Congo,  if  France  had  taken  sides 
with  England,  which  was  displaying  a  violent  hos- 
tility against  him?  Lastly,  this  paradoxical  mon- 
arch, who  always  governed  through  Catholic 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     269 

ministries  at  home,  because  that  was  the  wish  ex- 
pressed by  the  majority  of  votes,  was,  I  firmly; 
believe,  a  free-thinker  at  heart  and  was  pleased  to 
find  that  our  rulers  entertained  views  which  cor- 
responded with  his  own  secret  tendencies. 

The  fact  is  that  Leopold  II  looked  at  everything 
from  two  points  of  view:  that  of  practical  reality 
and  that  of  his  own  selfishness.  The  King  had  in 
his  veins  the  blood  of  the  Coburgs  mixed  with  that 
of  the  d'Orleans,  two  highly  intelligent  families, 
but  utterly  devoid  of  sentiment  or  sensibility;  and 
he  treated  life  as  an  equation  which  it  was  his  busi- 
ness to  solve  by  any  methods,  no  matter  which,  so 
long  as  the  result  corresponded  with  that  which  he 
had  assigned  to  it  beforehand. 

He  had  an  extraordinarily  observant  mind,  was 
marvellously  familiar  with  the  character  of  his  peo- 
ple, its  weaknesses  and  its  vanities  and  played  upon 
these  with  the  firm,  yet  delicate  touch  of  a  pianist 
who  feels  himself  to  be  a  perfect  master  of  his  in- 
strument and  of  its  effects.  His  cleverness  as  a 
constitutional  sovereign  consisted  in  appearing  to 
follow  the  movements  of  public  opinion,  whereas, 
in  reality,  he  directed  and  sometimes  even  provoked 
them. 

Thus,  in  1884,  when  the  violent  reaction  of  the 
Catholics  against  the  anti-clerical  policy  of  M. 
Frere-Orban  culminated  in  the  return  of  the  con- 


270     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

servatives  to  power,  one  might  have  thought  that 
the  Crown,  which  until  then  had  supported  the 
liberal  policy  and  favoured  the  secularisation  of  the 
schools,  would  find  itself  in  a  curiously  difficult  po- 
sition and  that  the  check  administered  to  M.  Frere- 
Orban  would  amount  to  a  check  administered  to 
the  King  himself.  Not  at  all.  Leopold  II,  shel- 
tering himself  behind  his  duties  as  a  constitutional 
sovereign,  became,  from  one  day  to  the  next,  as 
firm  a  supporter  of  the  Catholic  party  as  he  had 
been,  till  then,  of  the  liberals.  Nay,  more,  I  have 
learnt  since  that  he  had  a  hand  in  the  change  of 
attitude  on  the  part  of  parliament  and  the  nation. 
As  I  have  hinted  above,  his  personal  sympathies 
lay  on  the  side  of  the  liberal  party;  but,  with  the 
perspicacity  that  was  all  his  own,  he  was  not  slow 
in  perceiving  the  spectre  of  budding  socialism  which 
was  beginning  to  loom  behind  Voltairean  liberal- 
ism. He  suspected  its  dangers;  and  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  give  a  sudden  turn  to  the  right  to  the 
ship  of  state  of  which  he  looked  upon  himself  as 
the  responsible  pilot.  And  this  position  he  main- 
tained until  the  end  of  his  days  without,  for  a  mo- 
ment, laying  aside  any  of  his  personal  preferences. 

2. 

My  first  meeting  with  Leopold  II  dates  back  to 
1896.     The  King  had  gone  to  the  Riviera,  accom- 


KING    LEOPOLD   II. 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     271 

panied  by  his  charming  daughter,  Princess  Cle- 
mentine, now  Princess  Napoleon,  who,  from  that 
time  onward,  filled  in  relation  to  her  father  the  part 
of  the  Antigone  of  a  tempestuous  old  age.  I  shall 
never  forget  my  surprise  when  the  King,  who  had 
made  the  long  railway- journey  from  Brussels  to 
Nice  without  a  stop,  said  to  his  chamberlain,  Baron 
Snoy,  as  they  left  the  station : 

"Send  away  the  carriage,  monsieur  le  chambellan. 
We'll  go  to  the  hotel  on  foot.  I  want  to  stretch 
my  legs  a  bit!" 

We  walked  down  the  Avenue  Thiers,  followed 
by  an  inconvenient  little  crowd  of  inquisitive  peo- 
ple. Just  as  we  were  about  to  cross  a  street,  a 
landau  drove  up  and  obliged  us  to  step  back  to 
the  pavement.  As  it  passed  us,  the  King  solemnly 
took  off  his  hat:  he  had  recognised  Queen  Victoria 
seated  in  the  carriage  and  apparently  astonished  at 
this  unexpected  meeting. 

When  we  reached  the  Place  Massena,  again  the 
King's  hat  flew  off:  this  time,  it  was  the  Dowager 
Empress  of  Russia  entering  a  shop. 

"The  place  seems  crammed  with  sovereigns,"  he 
said,  with  his  mocking  air.  "Whom  am  I  going  to 
meet  next,  I  wonder?" 

I  saw  little  of  him  during  this  first  short  stay 
which  he  made  at  Nice,  for  I  was  at  that  time  at- 
tached to  the  person  of  the  Queen  of  England  and 


THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

had  to  transfer  the  duty  of  protecting  King  Leo- 
pold to  one  of  my  colleagues.  I  used  to  meet  him 
occasionally — always  on  foot — on  the  Cimiez  road ; 
I  would  also  see  him,  in  the  afternoon,  taking  tea 
at  Rumpelmayer's  with  his  two  daughters,  the 
Princesses  Clementine  and  Louise,  and  his  son-in- 
law,  Prince  Philip  of  Saxe-Coburg-Gotha.  These 
family  meetings  around  a  five  o'clock  tea-table 
marked  the  last  auspicious  days  of  peace  which  was 
more  apparent  than  real  among  those  illustrious 
personages. 

When  Leopold  II  returned  to  the  Riviera  two 
years  later,  he  had  quarrelled,  in  the  meanwhile, 
with  his  daughter  Louise,  who  herself  had  quar- 
relled with  her  husband;  he  had  ceased  to  see  his 
daughter  Stephanie,  who  had  married  Count  Lon- 
yay;  and  he  met  his  wife,  Queen  Marie  Henriette, 
as  seldom  as  he  possibly  could.  Princess  Clemen- 
tine was  the  only  one  who  still  found  favour  with 
this  masterful  old  man,  who  was  so  hard  upon 
others  and  so  indulgent  to  himself;  and  she  con- 
tinued, with  admirable  devotion  and  self-abnega- 
tion, to  surround  him  with  solicitous  care  and  to 
accompany  him  wherever  he  went. 

I  never  met  a  more  smiling  resignation  than  that 
of  this  princess,  who  took  a  noble  pride  in  the  per- 
formance of  her  duty.  Nothing  was  able  to  dis- 
courage her  in  the  fulfilment  of  her  filial  mission: 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     273 

not  the  rebuffs  and  caprices  which  she  encountered 
on  her  father's  side,  nor  the  frequently  delicate  and 
sometimes  humiliating  positions  which  he  forced 
upon  her,  nor  even  the  persistency  with  which,  until 
his  dying  day,  he  thwarted  the  secret  inclinations 
of  her  heart. 

It  has  been  said  that,  at  one  time,  he  thought  of 
giving  her  the  Prince  of  Naples — now  King  of 
Italy — for  a  husband  and  that  he  abandoned  the 
idea  in  consequence  of  the  stubborn  opposition 
which  the  plan  encountered  on  the  part  of  exalted 
political  personages.  I  do  not  know  if  he  ever 
entertained  this  plan;  on  the  other  hand,  I  feel, 
pretty  sure  that,  some  years  ago,  he  would  have 
liked  the  Count  of  Turin  for  a  son-in-law  and  that 
negotiations  were  even  opened  to  this  effect  with 
the  Italian  court.  But  the  most  invincible  of  argu- 
ments— the  only  one  that  had  not  been  taken  into 
account — was  at  once  opposed  to  this  project:  the 
princess's  affections  were  engaged  elsewhere.  She 
loved  Prince  Victor  Napoleon  and  had  resolved 
that  she  would  never  marry  another  man.  Of 
course,  I  was  not  present  at  the  scene  which  the 
plain  expression  of  this  wish  provoked  between 
father  and  daughter;  but  I  understand  that  it  was 
of  a  violent  character.  From  that  day,  the  Prince's 
name  was  never  mentioned  between  them.  The 
Princess  continued,  as  in  the  past,  to  fill  the  part 


of  an  attentive  and  devoted  daughter;  she  con- 
tinued scrupulously  to  perform  her  duties  as  "the 
little  Queen,"  as  the  Belgians  called  her  after  1904, 
the  year  of  her  mother's  death,  when  she  began  to 
take  Marie  Henriette's  place  at  official  functions; 
she  continued  to  succour  the  poor  and  nurse  the 
sick  with  greater  solicitude  than  ever;  and  she  was 
seen,  as  before,  driving  her  pony-chaise  in  the  Bois 
de  la  Cambre.  Only,  in  the  privacy  of  her  boudoir, 
the  moment  she  had  a  little  time  to  herself,  she 
would  immerse  herself  in  the  study  of  historical 
memoirs  of  the  Napoleonic  period. 

To  tell  the  truth,  I  believe  that  if  Prince  Victor 
had  not  possessed  the  grave  fault,  in  Leopold's 
eyes,  of  being  a  pretender  to  the  French  throne, 
the  King  would  have  ended  by  giving  to  the  daugh- 
ter whom  he  adored  the  consent  for  which  she 
vainly  entreated  during  six  long  years.  But  the 
King  was  an  exceedingly  selfish  man ;  he  was  eager, 
for  the  reasons  explained  above,  to  preserve  good 
relations  with  the  French  Republic ;  and  he  refused 
at  any  price  to  admit  the  heir  of  the  Bonapartes 
into  his  family.  The  result  was  that  he  ended  by 
conceiving  against  the  Prince  the  violent  antipathy 
which  he  felt  for  any  person  who  stood  in  his  way 
and  interfered  with  his  calculations.  I  remember 
realising  this  one  morning  at  the  station  at  Bale, 
where  I  had  gone  to  meet  him.  The  King  was 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     275 

waiting  on  the  platform  for  the  Brussels  train, 
when  I  suddenly  caught  sight  of  Prince  Victor 
leaving  the  refreshment-room.  I  thought  it  my 
duty  to  tell  the  King. 

"Oh,  indeed!"  he  said.  "Let's  go  and  look  at 
the  engines." 

And  he  strode  away. 

Can  it  have  been  because  he  was  sure  of  meeting 
neither  Prince  Victor  nor  the  members  of  his  family 
on  the  Riviera  that  he  resolved,  at  the  end  of  his 
life,  to  fix  one  of  his  chief  residences  in  the  south 
of  France?  I  will  not  go  so  far  as  to  say  so.  I 
am  more  inclined  to  believe  that  the  old  King,  who 
was  a  passionate  lover  of  sunshine,  flowers  and  free- 
dom, found  in  that  charming  and  easy-going  coun- 
try the  environment  most  in  harmony  with  his 
moods  and  tastes. 

As  early  as  1898,  he  resolved  to  lay  out  for  him- 
self a  paradise  in  that  wonderful  property,  known 
as  Passable,  which  he  had  purchased  near  Nice, 
with  its  gardens  sloping  down  to  the  Gulf  of  Ville- 
franche.  He  devoted  all  his  horticultural  and 
architectural  knowledge,  all  his  sense  of  what  was 
beautiful  and  picturesque  to  its  embellishment. 
Tiberius  achieved  no  greater  success  at  Capri. 
Year  after  year,  he  enlarged  it,  for  he  had  a  mania 
for  building  and  pulling  down.  He  also  had  the 
soul  of  a  speculator.  None  knew  better  than  he 


276     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

how  to  bargain  for  a  piece  of  land :  he  would  bully, 
threaten  and  intimidate  the  other  side  until  he  in- 
variably won  the  day.  Thereupon  he  used  to  in- 
dulge in  childish  delight: 

"It's  all  right,"  he  would  say,  with  a  great 
chuckle.  "I  have  done  a  capital  stroke  of  busi- 
ness I" 

And  I  am  bound  to  admit  that  he  spared  neither 
time  nor  energy  when  he  scented  what  he  called  a 
"capital  stroke  of  business." 

I  can  still  see  him,  one  afternoon,  leaving  M. 
Waldeck-Rousseau's  villa  at  the  Cap  d'Antibes, 
near  Cannes,  where  he  had  gone  to  pay  the  prime 
minister  a  visit,  and  perceiving,  on  the  road  leading 
to  the  station,  a  magnificent  walled-in  park  that 
looked  as  if  it  were  abandoned : 

"Who  owns  that  property?"  he  asked,  suddenly. 

"An  Englishman,  Sir,  who  never  comes  near  it." 

"We  have  time  to  look  over  it,"  said  the  King, 
"before  the  train  leaves  for  Nice.  Somebody  fetch 
the  gardener !" 

The  gardener  was  not  to  be  found,  but  the  gate 
was  open.  Leopold  II  walked  in,  without  hesita- 
tion, followed  by  Baron  Snoy,  my  colleague,  M. 
Olivi,  and  myself,  hurried  along  the  deserted  paths 
and  praised  the  beauty  of  the  vegetation ;  but,  when 
it  became  time  to  go,  we  discovered,  to  our  dismay, 
that  someone  had  locked  the  gate  while  we  were 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     277 

inside.  There  was  no  key,  no  possibility  of  open- 
ing it.  We  called  and  shouted  in  vain.  Nobody 
appeared.  The  train  was  due  before  long;  the 
King  began  to  grow  impatient.  What  were  we  to 
do?  Olivi  had  a  flash  of  genius.  He  ran  to  a 
shed,  the  roof  of  which  shewed  above  the  nearest 
thicket,  and  returned  with  a  ladder: 

"If  Your  Majesty  does  not  mind,  you  will  be 
able  to  get  over  the  wall." 

The  King  accepted  impassively  and  the  ascent 
began.  Baron  Snoy  went  first,  then  I;  and  the 
King,  in  his  turn,  climbed  the  rungs,  supported  by 
Olivi.  Baron  Snoy  and  I,  propped  up  on  the  top 
of  the  wall,  hoisted  the  King  after  us.  We  were 
joined  by  Olivi;  and  then  a  dreadful  thing  hap- 
pened: the  ladder  swayed  and  fell!  There  we 
were,  all  four  of  us,  astride  the  wall,  swinging  our 
legs,  without  any  means  of  getting  down  on  the 
other  side. 

"We  look  like  burglars,"  said  the  King,  with  a 
forced  laugh. 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  jump.  The  dis- 
tance from  the  top  of  the  wall  to  the  slope  beside 
the  road  was  not  great ;  and  Baron  Snoy,  Olivi  and 
I  succeeded  in  falling  on  our  feet  without  great 
difficulty.  The  King,  however,  who  limped  in  one 
leg  and  lacked  agility,  could  not  think  of  it. 

Then  Olivi,  who  certainly  proved  himself  a  most 


278     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

resourceful  man  that  day,  solved  the  problem.  He 
suggested  that  the  King  should  climb  down  upon 
our  shoulders.  The  King,  accordingly,  let  him- 
self slide  down  on  to  the  shoulders  of  Baron  Snoy, 
who  passed  him  on  to  Olivi 's  back,  while  I  caught 
hold  of  his  long  legs  and  deposited  his  huge  feet 
safely  on  the  ground ! 

Some  years  later,  seeing  Olivi  at  the  station  at 
Nice: 

"I  remember  you,  M.  Olivi,"  said  Leopold  II. 
"You  took  part  in  our  great  gymnastic  display  at 
Antibes." 

"I  did,  Sir." 

"Well,  do  you  know,  M.  Olivi,  there  is  no  need 
for  me  to  climb  the  wall  now.  I  have  the  key :  the 
property  belongs  to  me !" 

The  whole  man  is  pictured  in  this  anecdote. 
Even  as  he  gave  numberless  signs  of  avarice  and 
meanness  in  the  details  of  material  life,  so  he  dis- 
played an  almost  alarming  extravagance  once  it 
became  a  question  of  satisfying  a  whim,  although 
he  would  carefully  calculate  the  advantages  of  any 
such  whim  beforehand.  Now  to  increase  the  num- 
ber of  his  landed  properties  was  with  him  a  genuine 
monomania,  a  sort  of  methodical  madness. 

At  the  bottom  of  his  character  lay  certain  pre- 
cepts which  belonged  to  the  great  middle  class  of 
1840  and  which  had  survived  from  the  middle-class 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     279 

education  imparted  to  him  in  his  youth.  It  was 
thus  that  he  was  brought  to  think  that  the  amount 
of  a  man's  wealth  is  to  be  measured  by  the  amount 
of  real  estate  which  he  possesses.  He  fought  shy 
of  stocks  and  shares  because  of  the  frequent  fluc- 
tuations to  which  they  are  subjected.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  felt  a  constant  satisfaction — I  was  almost 
saying  a  rapturous  delight — in  the  acquisition  of 
land,  in  turning  his  cash  into  acres  of  soil  and  in- 
vesting his  fortune  in  marble  or  bricks  and  mortar, 
because  he  looked  upon  these  as  more  solid  and 
lasting. 

It  goes  without  saying  that,  during  his  long  visits 
to  the  South,  he  escaped  as  much  of  the  official  and 
social  drudgery  as  he  could.  He  saw  very  little  of 
his  illustrious  cousins  staying  on  the  Riviera; 
avoided  dinners  and  garden-parties ;  and,  when  not 
at  work,  spent  his  time  in  long  and  interminable 
walks,  or  else  went  and  sat  on  a  bench  in  some  pub- 
lic garden  or  by  the  sea  and  there  steeped  himself 
in  his  reflexions.  Sometimes,  when  he  was  in  a 
hurry  to  get  back,  he  would  take  the  tram  or  hail 
a  fly,  always  picking  out  the  oldest  and  shabbiest. 

One  day,  at  his  wish,  I  beckoned  to  a  driver  on 
the  rank  at  Nice. 

"No,  no,  not  that  one,"  he  said.  "Call  the  other 
man,  over  there:  the  one  with  the  horse  that  looks 
half -dead." 


280     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"But  the  carriage  seems  very  dirty,  Sir,"  I  ven- 
tured to  remark. 

"Just  so:  as  he  drives  such  an  uninviting  con- 
veyance, he  must  be  doing  bad  business;  we  must 
try  and  help  him." 

Leopold  II  had  a  trick  of  performing  these  sud- 
den and  unexpected  acts  of  kindness. 

He  was  a  sceptic  to  the  verge  of  indifference  and 
yet  entertained  odd  antipathies  and  aversions.  For 
instance,  he  hated  the  piano  and  was  terrified  of  a 
cold  in  the  head.  Whenever  he  had  to  select  a  new 
aide-de-camp,  he  always  began  by  asking  two  ques- 
tions: 

"Do  you  play  the  piano?  Do  you  catch  cold 
easily?" 

If  the  officer  replied  in  the  negative,  the  King 
said,  "That's  all  right,"  and  the  aide-de-camp  was 
appointed;  but  if,  by  ill-luck,  the  poor  fellow  re- 
turned an  evasive  answer,  his  fate  was  doomed:  he 
went  straight  back  to  his  regiment. 

This  inexplicable  dread  of  the  corizza  had  at- 
tained such  proportions  that,  during  the  last  years 
of  the  King's  life,  the  people  about  him — including 
the  ladies — discovered  a  simple  and  ingenious  ex- 
pedient for  obtaining  a  day's  leave  when  they 
wanted  it:  they  simply  sneezed  without  stopping. 
At  the  third  explosion,  the  old  sovereign  gave  a  sus- 
picious look  at  the  sneezer  and  said:. 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     281 

"I  sha'n't  want  you  to-day." 

And  the  trick  was  done. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  showed  himself  very  in- 
dulgent towards  his  younger  officers'  adventures  in 
the  world  of  gallantry.  I  remember  his  chaffing 
one  of  them,  one  morning,  at  Nice.  Captain 
Binje,  an  officer  whose  intelligence,  activity  and 
devotion  had  earned  his  appreciation,  was  a  little 
late  on  duty  that  morning ;  and  moreover  his  clothes 
emitted  a  very  strong  scent.  The  King  at  once 
began  to  sniff : 

"Oof!  Oof!"  he  said.  "I'll  wager  you  struck  a 
flower  on  your  road  here !" 

"Y-your  M-majesty,"  stammered  the  officer. 

"All  right,  all  right,  my  boy:  you  can't  help  it, 
at  your  age!" 

He  had  idiosyncrasies,  like  most  mortals.  For 
instance,  he  used  to  have  four  buckets  of  sea-water 
dashed  over  his  body  every  morning,  by  way  of  a 
bath;  he  expected  partridges  to  be  served  at  his 
meals  all  the  year  round;  and  he  had  his  news- 
papers ironed  like  pocket-handkerchiefs  before 
reading  them:  he  could  not  endure  anything  like  a 
fold  or  crease  in  them.  Lastly,  when  addressing 
the  servants,  he  always  spoke  of  himself  in  the  third 
person.  Thus  he  would  say  to  his  chauffeur, 
"Wait  for  Urn"  instead  of,  "Wait  for  me"  Those 
new  to  his  service,  who  had  not  been  warned, 


282     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

were  puzzled  to  know  what  mysterious  person  he 
referred  to. 

A  strange  eccentric,  you  will  say.  No  doubt, 
although  these  oddities  are  difficult  to  understand 
in  the  case  of  a  man  who  displayed  the  most  practi- 
cal mind,  the  most  lucid  intelligence  and  the 
shrewdest  head  for  business  the  moment  he  was 
brought  face  to  face  with  the  facts  of  daily  life. 
But,  I  repeat,  to  those  who  knew  him  best,  he  ap- 
peared in  the  light  of  a  constant  and  bewildering 
puzzle;  and  this  was  shown  not  only  in  the  pecul- 
iarity of  his  manners,  but  in  the  incongruity  of 
his  sentiments.  How  are  we  to  explain  why  this 
King  should  feel  an  infinite  love  for  children,  this 
stern  King  who  was  so  hard  and  sometimes  so 
cruel  in  his  treatment  of  those  to  whom  by  rights 
he  ought  never  to  have  closed  his  heart  nor  refused 
his  indulgence?  Yet  the  tall  old  man  worshipped 
the  little  tots.  They  were  almost  the  only  crea- 
tures whose  greetings  he  returned;  and  he  would 
go  carefully  out  of  his  way,  when  strolling  along 
a  beach,  rather  than  spoil  their  sand-castles.  How 
are  we  to  explain  the  deep-seated,  intense  and 
jealous  delight  which  he,  so  insensible  to  the  softer 
emotions  of  mankind,  felt  at  the  sight  of  the 
fragile  beauty  of  a  rare  flower?  How  are  we  to 
explain  why  he  reserved  the  kindness  and  gentle- 
ness which  he  so  harshly  refused  to  his  wife  and 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     283 

daughters  for  his  unfortunate  sister,  the  Empress 
Charlotte,  whose  mysterious  madness  had  kept  her 
for  forty-two  years  a  lonely  prisoner  within  the 
high  walls  of  the  Chateau  de  Bouchout?  And  yet, 
every  morning  of  those  forty-two  years  he  never 
failed,  when  at  Laeken,  to  go  alone  across  the  park 
to  that  silent  dwelling  and  spend  two  hours  in  soli- 
tary converse  with  the  tragic  widow.  Each  day, 
with  motherly  solicitude,  he  personally  supervised 
the  smallest  details  of  that  shattered  existence. 

Lastly,  what  an  astounding  contrast  was  offered 
in  Leopold  II,  who  was  considered  insensible  to  the 
weaknesses  of  the  heart,  by  the  sudden  blossoming 
of  a  sentimental  idyll  in  the  evening  of  his  life ! 

3. 

No  one,  I  said,  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter, 
was  more  intimately  acquainted  than  myself  with 
the  private  life  of  the  late  King  Leopold.  This 
was  one  of  the  consequences — I  am  far  from  add- 
ing, one  of  the  advantages — of  my  professional 
duties  about  the  persons  of  the  sovereigns  whom  I 
have  guarded.  And  I  would  certainly  have  hesi- 
tated before  broaching  the  subject  of  the  royal  ad- 
ventures, if  this  subject  had  remained  secret.  But 
public  animosity  and  the  King's  indifference  to 
scandal  have  made  it  so  well-known  that  I  feel  no 
scruples  about  speaking  in  my  own  turn,  the  more 


284     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

so  as  this  will  give  me  the  opportunity  of  destroy- 
ing many  a  detail  of  the  legend  which  people  have 
been  pleased  to  build  up  around  him  and  of  cor- 
recting those  facts  which  have  come  to  the  inquis- 
itive ears  of  the  public. 

To  begin  with,  the  adventure  with  which  Leo- 
pold II  was  credited  for  ten  years  in  connexion 
with  Mile.  Cleo  de  Merode  must  be  relegated  to 
the  pure  domain  of  fiction.  I  daresay  that  it  as- 
sisted the  advancement  of  the  young  and  pretty 
dancer  as  much  as  it  annoyed  the  King,  who  was 
pursued  even  in  Brussels  itself  by  the  irreverent 
nickname  of  "Cleopold."  What  gave  rise  to  this 
absolutely  gratuitous  conviction  on  the  part  of  pub- 
lic opinion?  Nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  gossip- 
ing remark  let  fall  in  the  slips  at  the  Opera  by 
someone  who  pretended  that  he  had  met  the  King 
and  the  ballet-dancer  looking  for  a  sequestered  spot 
in  the  Forest  of  Saint- Germain. 

The  scandal  was  hardy  and  tough:  it  ran  for 
ten  years  without  stopping  to  take  breath.  At  the 
end  of  that  period,  which  was  long  enough  to  turn 
any  lie  into  a  truth,  Leopold  II,  one  night  at  the 
Opera,  asked  an  important  official  to  present  Mile, 
de  Merode  to  him,  saying  that  he  had  never  met 
the  lady,  although  he  had  "often  heard  of  her." 
The  important  official  promptly  adopted  the  view 
that  the  King  was  uncommonly  "deep." 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     285 

And  yet  it  was  perfectly  true:  he  had  never  set 
eyes  on  her  in  his  life.  The  fact  was  proved  by 
the  candour  of  the  words  which  he  addressed  to  the 
charming  dancer  when  she  was  brought  up  to  be 
presented : 

"Allow  me  to  express  all  my  regrets  if  the  good- 
fortune  which  people  attribute  to  me  has  offended 
you  at  all.  Alas,  we  no  longer  live  in  the  days 
when  a  king's  favour  was  not  looked  upon  as  com- 
promising! Besides,  I  am  only  a  little  king." 

On  the  other  hand,  a  single  and  decisive  love, 
which  he  preserved  until  his  death  was  soon  to  fill 
his  thoughts  exclusively  and  graft  upon  his  senile 
heart  a  belated  bloom  of  disconcerting  youth. 
When  Leopold  II  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mile. 
Blanche  Caroline  Delacroix,  whom  he  afterwards 
raised  to  the  dignity  of  Baroness  Vaughan,  he  had 
just  reached  his  sixty-fifth  year.  The  lady  boasted 
two-and-twenty  summers.  The  humbleness  of  her 
birth  prevented  her  from  raising  her  eyes  to  a 
throne.  She  was  the  thirteenth  child  of  a  working 
mechanic  and  was  born  at  Bucharest,  where  her 
father  had  gone  to  seek  his  fortune.  She  was 
brought  up,  therefore,  in  courts  which  were  very 
different  from  royal  courts;  and  I  need  not  say 
that  her  education  had  hardly  prepared  her  for  the 
brilliant  destiny  which  her  chequered  life  held  in 
store  for  her. 


286     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Well,  one  afternoon  in  September,  she  was  sent 
for  to  be  presented  to  King  Leopold,  who  was 
passing  through  Paris,  who  had  heard  of  her  at- 
tractions and  who  felt  interested  in  her  modest  con- 
dition. She  was  so  flustered  by  this  event  that  she 
promptly  mixed  up  Belgium  and  Sweden.  This 
was  not  a  very  serious  matter  in  itself;  but  it  might 
have  been,  in  the  circumstances,  if  Leopold  II  had 
not  happened  to  be  in  a  good  humour  that  day. 
The  fact  remained  that  Mile.  Delacroix  was  con- 
vinced that  she  was  in  the  presence  of  the  King  of 
Sweden,  nor  did  she  find  out  her  mistake  until  she 
noticed  the  amused  surprise  which  Leopold  be- 
trayed whenever,  with  her  very  comprehensible  ig- 
norance of  the  rules  of  etiquette,  Mile.  Delacroix 
went  out  of  her  way  to  call  him  "His  Majesty 
Oscar." 

I  am  bound  to  confess  that  she  at  once  recovered 
her  self-possession  when  the  King  of  the  Belgians 
thought  fit  discreetly  to  apprise  her  of  his  identity 
and  she  was  greatly  diverted  by  her  blunder.  Two 
years  later,  I  described  the  mishap,  to  the  King  of 
Sweden,  who  happened  to  be  staying  at  Biarritz 
at  the  same  time  as  the  Baroness  Vaughan.  Said 
Oscar  II : 

"Do  present  my  fair  cousin,  who  did  me  so  great 
an  honour!" 

"But,  Sir,"  I  replied,  "she  may  feel  a  regret!" 


PRINCESS   CLEMENTINE 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     287 

"Do  you  think  so,  Paoli?  'And  yet  I  am  no 
'fresher'  than  my  cousin  of  Belgium.  I  am  afraid, 
you  see,  that  the  regret  will  be  all  on  my  side!" 

I  believe  that  the  regret  was  mutual.  However, 
the  meeting  was  arranged.  The  baroness  took  a 
snapshot  of  King  Oscar  with  her  kodak;  and  we 
agreed  to  say  nothing  about  it  to  King  Leopold, 
who  was  of  a  jealous  disposition. 

To  what  did  Blanche  Caroline  Delacroix  owe  her 
success  with  Leopold  II:  to  her  vivid  conversa- 
tional powers,  to  the  dazzling  youthfulriess  of  the 
fair-haired  divinity  that  she  was,  or  to  her  genuine 
intelligence?  I  cannot  tell;  but  this  much  is  cer- 
tain, that,  at  her  first  audience,  she  succeeded  in 
arousing  in  the  old  man's  heart  a  love  which  was 
manifested  at  first  in  a  polite  flirtation  and  conse- 
crated later  in  a  union  the  mystery  of  which  was 
never  fully  solved.  Both  the  King  and  Mme. 
de  Vaughan  carefully  refrained  from  making  the 
smallest  confidence  on  the  subject  of  their  mar- 
riage even  to  those  in  whom  they  confided  most 
readily.  Nevertheless,  I  have  always  believed  that 
a  secret  religious  ceremony  did  take  place,  so  as 
to  regularise  their  situation,  if  not  with  regard  to 
Belgian  law,  at  least  in  respect  to  the  Church  and 
their  consciences.  This  conviction  on  my  part  was 
strengthened  by  the  pastoral  letter  which  Mgr. 
Mercier,  Archbishop  of  Mechlin  addressed  to  the 


288     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Belgian  Catholics  after  the  King's  death  and  in 
which  the  primate  declared  that  the  sovereign  had 
died  at  peace  with  the  Church  of  Rome.  Allow- 
ing for  the  legitimate  susceptibilities  of  the  royal 
family,  it  was  impossible  to  confirm  the  existence 
of  a  morganatic  union  in  a  more  diplomatic  man- 
ner. Some  have  said  that  the  marriage  was  cele- 
brated at  San  Remo,  during  the  time  when  the 
King  and  Mme.  de  Vaughan  were  staying  at  Ville- 
franche,  near  Nice.  I  cannot  certify  this.  When 
I  consult  my  recollection,  I  merely  remember  that, 
on  a  certain  morning,  some  years  before  Leopold 
II's  death,  I  saw  the  King  and  Mme.  de  Vaughan 
drive  off  together  in  a  motor-car — a  thing  which 
they  had  never  done  before — he  looking  very  nerv- 
ous and  she  greatly  excited.  They  forbade  any- 
one to  accompany  them  and  did  not  return  until 
evening,  when  they  made  no  attempt  to  tell  us 
where  they  had  been.  Marcel,  the  chauffeur,  said 
that  he  had  taken  them  to  San  Remo,  on  Italian 
territory;  but,  apart  from  this,  he  also  showed  a 
memorable  discretion  and  we  got  no  more  out  of 
him. 

I  noticed,  however,  that,  from  that  day,  the  at- 
titude of  the  couple  changed:  they  showed  them- 
selves in  public  together,  went  openly  to  the  the- 
atre at  Nice  and  to  the  carnival  masquerade  and 
abstained  from  taking  the  very  childish  and  rather 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     289 

ridiculous  precautions  which  the  King  had  pre- 
scribed during  the  period  of  flirtation  and  "engage- 
ment" on  the  score  of  "saving  appearances!" 

Ridiculous  and  childish  they  were,  as  the  reader 
can  judge  for  himself.  For  instance,  although  the 
Baroness  Vaughan  shared  all  the  King's  journeys 
and  accompanied  him  wherever  he  went,  she  was 
never  to  address  a  word  to  him  in  public  or  appear 
to  know  him.  They  took  the  same  trains,  got  out 
at  the  same  stations,  put  up  at  the  same  hotels  in 
adjoining  rooms,  lunched  and  dined  in  the  same 
dining-room,  but  ignored  each  other's  existence,  he 
with  an  imperturbable  composure,  she  with  a 
charming  awkwardness. 

The  King  never  spoke  of  Mme.  de  Vaughan  to 
the  members  of  his  suite:  I  do  not  believe  that  he 
once  so  much  as  mentioned  her  name  before  me; 
and  yet  he  knew  that  I  knew.  He  was  quite  aware 
that  I  had  made  her  acquaintance  and  that  we  used 
to  spend  hours  chatting  together  in  the  halls  of  the 
hotels  at  which  we  stayed.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
imagined  that  nobody  except  myself  suspected  this 
intrigue,  although  it  was  an  open  secret  about  which 
the  whole  staff  of  the  hotel,  from  the  manager  to 
the  kitchen-scullions,  used  to  gossip  from  morning 
till  night !  He  went  on  stoically  playing  his  puerile 
comedy.  Every  day,  at  lunch,  seated  with  her 
maid  at  a  table  opposite  him,  she  used  to  send  smiles 


290     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

and  signals  to  Captain  Binje  and  myself,  who  had 
our  work  cut  out  to  keep  a  serious  countenance. 
When  lunch  was  over,  Leopold  would  start  on  a 
walk  with  his  aide-de-camp,  while  Mme.  de 
Vaughan  would  set  out,  on  her  side,  accompanied 
either  by  her  companion  or  her  maid.  Half  an 
hour  later,  they  met  on  the  high-road.  The  King 
would  hurry  forward,  take  off  his  hat  and  exclaim: 

"Fancy  meeting  you,  madame!  How  fortu- 
natel" 

This  was  the  signal.  The  aide-de-camp  and  the 
lady's  maid  withdrew  discreetly,  leaving  the  two 
love-birds  to  themselves.  They  strolled  together 
for  a  couple  of  hours,  after  which  each  took  a  dif- 
ferent road  back  to  the  hotel,  so  as  not  to  enter  it 
at  the  same  time. 

On  rainy  days,  the  little  scene  was  enacted  with 
the  aid  of  motor-cars.  At  a  given  spot,  the  King 
changed  into  Mme.  de  Vaughan's  car,  while  the 
maid  stepped  into  the  King's.  When,  as  some- 
times happened,  the  baroness  grew  weary  of  this 
sentimental  progress — for  she  had  her  capricious 
moods — she  hastened  to  resort  to  the  traditional 
method  which  never  failed  to  achieve  its  object: 
she  gave  a  sneeze,  a  loud,  Titanic  sneeze.  There- 
upon Leopold  II  forgot  his  tender  passion  and 
eagerly  urged  her  to  go  home  at  once. 

The  Baroness  Vaughan  was  not  a  bad  sort  of 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS 

woman  on  the  whole.  In  the  early  days,  she  used 
to  put  up  with  the  violent  outbursts  to  which  the 
King  occasionally  treated  her:  she  would  light  a 
great,  big  cigar  and  think  no  more  about  it. 
Afterwards,  when  she  grew  accustomed  to  look 
upon  herself  as  the  King's  morganatic  wife,  her 
ambition  increased  and  she  insisted  on  being  treated 
with  deference.  She  complained  to  me  that  the 
Princess  Clementine,  whom  she  had  met  on  the 
road  or  in  some  path  in  a  garden,  had  not  conde- 
scended to  return  her  bow;  and  she  added,  in  a 
regretful  tone : 

"To  think  that,  if  I  had  lived  in  the  days  of  Louis 
XIV,  I  should  have  had  a  stool  at  Court !" 

In  the  absence  of  a  stool,  she  managed  to  achieve 
a  most  luxurious  existence.  The  King,  who  now 
never  left  her,  had  installed  her,  when  he  was  in 
residence  in  Brussels,  in  a  charming  villa  which 
communicated  directly  with  the  grounds  of  the 
Chateau  de  Laeken  by  means  of  a  bridge  that 
spanned  the  road  and  led  into  the  Baroness 
Vaughan's  garden.  Every  day,  before  paying  her 
his  visit,  he  sent  her  the  choicest  flowers  from  his 
hot-houses  and  the  finest  fruit  in  his  orchard. 

He  also  gave  her  a  delightful  little  house  on  his 
estate  of  Passable,  near  Nice.  He  used  to  go 
there  in  the  evening  alone,  through  the  garden, 
armed  with  a  dark  lantern,  and  spend  two  hours 


292     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

with  the  baroness  playing  cards.  At  eleven  o'clock, 
he  went  back  to  his  own  villa,  again  carrying  his 
dark  lantern,  while  my  detectives,  crouching  in  the 
bushes,  watched  over  his  safety  without  his  seeing 
them,  although  he  knew  that  they  were  there;  for, 
without  showing  it,  he  attached  great  importance 
to  being  properly  guarded. 

He  was  very  thrifty  in  his  personal  expenditure 
and  ended  by  imparting  his  habits  of  economy  to 
his  fair  friend.  Baroness  Vaughan  used  to  scruti- 
nise the  kitchen  accounts  as  closely  as  any  middle- 
class  housewife.  True,  the  housekeeping  books 
sometimes  took  excessive  liberties.  I  remember, 
one  year  at  the  Chateau  de  Lormois  near  Fontaine- 
bleau,  which  the  King  had  hired  for  the  season 
from  Mme.  Constant  Say,  the  widow  of  the  sugar- 
refiner,  there  was  a  violent  scene  with  the  cook, 
who  had  had  the  temerity  to  charge  for  seventy-five 
eggs  in  six  days.  Mme.  de  Vaughan  was  justly 
annoyed,  dismissed  him  on  the  spot  and  refused  to 
pay  him  the  usual  wages  instead  of  notice.  But 
Master  Cook  declined  to  be  done  out  of  what  he 
considered  his  rights.  In  his  fury,  he  hit  upon  the 
bright  idea  of  taking  up  his  stand,  day  after  day, 
outside  the  gate  of  the  chateau,  where  he  launched 
out  into  invectives  against  his  late  mistress  and 
loudly  bewailed  the  injustice  with  which  he  pre- 
tended to  have  been  treated.  We  dared  not  arrest 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     293 

him  because  of  the  scandal  which  he  threatened  to 
raise:  he  knew  the  habits  of  the  house,  of  course. 
My  detectives  tried  in  vain  to  make  him  listen  to 
reason  and  we  were  beginning  to  despair,  when,  at 
the  end  of  a  week,  we  saw  that  he  was  wearying  of 
his  daily  pilgrimage.  One  fine  day,  he  left  for 
Paris  and  was  seen  no  more. 

Great  as  was  the  influence  which  Mme.  de 
Vaughan  had  gained  over  the  King's  mind,  I  am 
bound  to  confess  that  it  was  never  exercised  in  po- 
litical matters  nor  in  any  of  Leopold's  financial 
undertakings.  The  baroness  knew  nothing  about 
those  things  and  made  no  attempt  to  understand 
them.  The  King  was  grateful  to  her  for  this  dis- 
cretion, which  in  reality  was  only  indifference,  for 
he  never  allowed  any  outsider  to  interfere  in  his 
affairs,  whether  public  or  private.  He  discussed 
none  of  his  schemes  before  they  were  completed 
or  before  he  had  drawn  up  his  plan  of  execution 
down  to  the  minutest  details. 

"It  shall  be  so,"  he  used  to  declare;  and  no  one 
ever  dreamt  of  opposing  his  will  so  plainly  ex- 
pressed. 

It  was  in  this  way  that  he  conducted  his  enor- 
mous Congo  enterprise  entirely  by  himself.  The 
different  phases  of  this  business  are  too  well  known 
for  me  to  recapitulate  them  here.  One  of  them, 
however — the  first  phase — has  been  very  seldom 


294     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

discussed  and  deserves  to  be  recalled,  for  it  throws 
a  great  light  not  only  upon  the  king's  conceptive 
genius,  but  also  upon  his  diplomatic  astuteness  and 
his  amazing  cynicism. 

In  1884,  Leopold  II,  who  had  for  years  been 
obsessed  by  the  longing  to  lay  hands  upon  the 
Congo  territory,  promoted  an  international  confer- 
ence in  order  to  frustrate  the  West  African  treaty 
which  had  lately  been  concluded  between  Great 
Britain  and  Portugal  and  which  stood  in  the  way 
of  the  realisation  of  his  secret  ambitions.  The 
King  of  the  Belgians  now  conceived  the  subtle  and 
intelligent  idea  of  inducing  the  congress  to  proclaim 
the  Congo  into  an  independent  state,  with  himself 
as  its  recognised  sovereign. 

There  was  only  one  person  in  Europe  pos- 
sessed of  sufficient  authority  to  bring  about  the 
adoption  of  this  daring  plan;  and  that  was  Bis- 
marck. Bismarck  was  the  necessary  instrument; 
but  how  was  he  to  be  persuaded?  Faced  with 
this  difficulty,  Leopold  II  hit  upon  the  idea  of 
sending  to  Berlin  a  mere  journalist,  whom  he  knew 
to  be  a  clever  and  talented  man,  and  instructed  him 
to  capture  the  Iron  Chancellor's  confidence.  Leo- 
pold coached  this  journalist,  a  gentleman  of  the 
name  of  Gantier,  to  such  good  purpose  that,  as 
the  result  of  a  campaign  directed  from  Brussels  by 
the  King  himself,  M.  Gantier  managed,  within  a 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     295 

few  months,  to  insinuate  himself  into  Bismarck's 
immediate  surroundings,  to  interest  him  in  the 
Congo  question  and  to  prove  to  him  that  Germany 
would  derive  incomparable  benefits  from  proclaim- 
ing the  independence  of  the  Congo  and  entrusting 
its  administration  to  a  neutral  sovereign  like  the 
King  of  the  Belgians. 

The  stratagem  was  successful  from  start  to  finish. 
The  Congress  of  Berlin,  on  the  motion  of  the  chan- 
cellor, proclaimed  the  Congo  an  independent  terri- 
tory with  Leopold  II,  for  its  sovereign.  We  know 
the  result:  the  Congo  is  at  this  day  a  Belgian  colony. 
Leopold  II,  in  a  word,  had  "dished"  Prince  Bis- 
marck. 

This  incident  is  enough  to  show  why  the  King 
considered  himself  superior  to  all  his  advisers  and 
why,  as  I  have  already  said,  he  felt  grateful  to 
Mme.  de  Vaughan  for  never  talking  to  him  about 
his  vast  enterprises.  Her  reticence  made  him  ap- 
preciate her  society  all  the  more. 

The  relaxation  which  he  found  became  more 
and  more  necessary  to  him  because  as  he  drew 
nearer  the  tomb,  the  worries  aforesaid  and  his  ac- 
tivities increased.  It  was  as  though  he  had  received 
a  mysterious  warning  to  tell  him  that  his  years  were 
now  numbered  and  that  he  must  hasten  the  realisa- 
tion of  his  numerous  and  immense  schemes.  Not 
to  speak  of  his  work  on  the  Congo,  which  was 


296     THEJR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

violently  attacked  both  by  politicians  of  all  parties 
abroad  and  by  the  Opposition  at  home,  his  other  vast 
undertakings  also  became  the  object  of  fierce  criti- 
cism on  the  part  of  his  adversaries,  who  considered 
that  he  was  neglecting  the  political  evolution  of  the 
country  in  order  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  his 
plans  for  transforming  the  town  of  Brussels.  He 
was  so  well  aware  of  this  state  of  opinion  that,  when 
the  burgomaster  of  the  capital,  his  friend  and  fellow 
worker,  M.  Mott,  came  to  congratulate  the  King  on 
his  last  birthday,  Leopold  said : 

"Let  us  hope  that  I  shall  have  time  to  complete 
my  work." 

"Why  not,  Sir?"  replied  M.  Mott.  "You  and 
I  are  of  the  same  age;  and  You  are  stronger  and 
haler  than  I  am." 

"Never  mind,  Monsieur  le  Bourgmestre:  remem- 
ber that,  when  one  of  us  closes  his  eyes,  the  other 
will  have  to  keep  his  open !" 

It  was  written,  in  fact,  that  Leopold  II  should 
be  called  away  before  fully  realising  his  colossal 
dreams  and  settling  his  intricate  personal  affairs. 
He  was  working  up  to  the  very  moment  of  his  death ; 
as  everybody  knows,  his  mind  remained  clear  to  the 
end,  nor  did  his  hostility  towards  his  family  waver 
for  an  instant.  He  died  as  he  had  lived,  inaccess- 
ible, haughty  and  sceptical. 

Nay,  even  after  he  had  entered  into  everlasting 


THE  LATE  KING  OF  THE  BELGIANS     297 

rest,  he  made  one  last  effort  to  resist  the  final  anni- 
hilation. I  have  the  gruesome  story  from  one  of 
Leopold's  aides-de-camp.  On  the  night  after  the 
King's  death,  while  two  Sisters  of  Charity  and  an 
officer  with  drawn  sword  were  watching  by  the  re- 
mains in  the  chapelle  ardente,  suddenly  an  uncanny 
cracking  sound  was  heard  to  issue  from  the  coffin. 
.The  watchers  at  first  believed  it  an  hallucination; 
then,  when  the  cracking  continued  and  became 
louder  and  louder,  the  two  nuns  examined  the  bier. 
How  great  was  their  terror  when,  through  the  crev- 
ices in  the  wood,  they  saw  the  buttons  of  the  uniform 
in  which  the  King  was  clad  and  the  hilt  of  his  sword 
moving  slowly  upwards!  The  doctors  were  hur- 
riedly sent  for  and  declared  that  the  deleterious 
gases  were  escaping  from  the  ill-embalmed  body, 
causing  the  King's  corpse  to  swell  and  burst  its 
coffin. 

Thus  death  itself,  after  depriving  him  of  move- 
ment for  all  time,  refused  him  the  majesty  and 
mystery  wherewith  it  surrounds  all  those  whom  it 
strikes,  until  the  moment  when  they  are  lowered 
into  the  tomb ! 


IX 
THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY 

WHILE  writing  these  recollections,  I 
have  more  than  once  had  occasion,  in 
passing,  to  mention  different  "faces'* 
belonging  to  the  Royal  Family  of  England.  They 
occur  at  most  of  the  sovereign  courts;  for  it  was 
no  empty  phrase  that  used  to  describe  Queen 
Victoria  as  "the  grandmother  of  Europe."  There 
was  never  a  truer  saying.  Even  as,  in  whichever 
direction  beyond-seas  we  turn  our  eyes,  we  behold 
the  British  flag  waving  in  the  breeze,  in  the  same 
way,  if  we  study  the  pedigree  of  any  royal  house, 
we  are  almost  always  certain  to  discover  an  Eng- 
lish alliance. 

The  long  years  which  I  spent  in  the  service  of 
Queen  Victoria  and  the  confidence  with  which  she 
honoured  me  by  admitting  me  to  her  intimacy 
enabled  me  to  become  acquainted  with  several  mem- 
bers of  that  large,  united  and  affable  family;  and 
I  am  bound  to  say  that  not  one  of  them  has  for- 
gotten me.  They  all  deign  to  give  me  a  little 
corner  in  their  childish  and  youthful  memories; 
they  are  good  enough  to  remember  that,  in  the  old 

301 


302     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

days,  when  they  came  to  Nice,  to  Aix,  to  Biar- 
[ritz  or  to  Cannes  to  pay  their  duty  to  their  grand- 
mother and  to  bring  her  the  smile  of  their  youth, 
there  was  always  in  the  old-fashioned  landau  that 
carried  the  good  Queen  along  the  country  roads,  or 
walking  beside  her  donkey-chair,  somebody  who 
shared  the  general  gaiety  and  whom  the  Queen 
treated  with  affectionate  kindness.  That  "some- 
body" was  myself. 

I  thus  had  the  honour  of  seeing  King  George 
V  when  he  was  still  wearing  the  modest  uniform 
of  a  lieutenant  in  the  Royal  Navy  and,  later,  of 
knowing  Queen  Mary  when  she  was  only  Duchess 
of  York  and  Cornwall.  And  I  hope  that  she  will 
permit  me,  in  this  connexion,  to  recall  an  incident 
that  diverted  Queen  Victoria's  little  circle  for  a 
whole  evening.  It  happened  during  a  visit  which 
the  Duchess  of  York  was  paying  to  the  Queen  at 
Nice.  I  had  informed  the  venerable  sovereign  that 
the  "ladies  of  the  fishmarket" — one  of  the  oldest 
corporations  at  Nice — wished  to  offer  her  some 
flowers ;  and  the  Queen  asked  the  Duchess  of  York 
to  receive  them  in  her  stead  and  to  express  her 
sincere  thanks  for  their  good  wishes. 

The  good  women  handed  the  Duchess  their 
bouquets;  and  I  then  saw  that  they  were  shy  and 
at  a  loss  what  to  do  or  say  next.  So  I  whispered 
to  them: 


KING   EDWARD   VII 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY  303 

"Go  and  kiss  that  gentleman  over  there,"  point- 
ing to  Colonel  Carington,  the  Queen's  equerry. 
"That  is  by  far  the  best  speech  that  you  could 
make  I" 

The  ladies  evidently  approved  of  my  suggestion, 
for  they  forthwith,  one  and  all,  flung  themselves 
upon  the  colonel's  neck;  and  he,  though  flurried 
and  a  little  annoyed,  had  to  submit  with  the  best 
grace  possible  to  this  volley  of  kisses  under  the  eyes 
of  the  princess,  who  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down 
her  cheeks. 

When  I  apologised  to  him  afterwards  for  the 
abominable  trick  which  I  had  played  him: 

"Ah,"  he  sighed,  "if  only  they  had  been  good- 
looking!" 

The  fact  is  that  none  of  the  ladies  evoked  the 
most  distant  memories  of  the  Venus  of  Milo ! 

Thanks  to  the  recollections  of  those  bygone  years, 
of  which  any  number  of  charming  and  amusing 
stories  could  be  told,  I  was  no  longer  a  stranger 
to  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  York  when,  after  the 
accession  of  King  Edward  VII,  they  were  raised 
to  the  title  of  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  and 
travelled  across  France,  under  my  protection,  on 
their  way  to  Brindisi,  where  they  were  to  take  ship 
for  India. 

"I  will  present  you  to  the  prince  myself,"  said 
Princess  May,  with  exquisite  and  simple  kindli- 


304     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

ness,  when  she  saw  me  waiting  for  them  in  the  rail- 
way station  at  Calais.  And  she  continued, 
"George,  this  is  M.  Paoli :  you  remember  him,  don't 
you?" 

"I  remember,"  said  the  prince,  giving  me  his 
hand,  "how  much  my  grandmother  liked  you  and 
the  affection  which  she  showed  you.  I  need  hardly 
say  that  we  feel  just  the  same  to  you  ourselves." 

I  could  not  have  hoped  for  a  more  cordial  wel- 
come from  the  prince,  whose  features  bore  so  strik- 
ing a  resemblance  to  those  of  the  Emperor  of  Rus- 
sia, whom  I  had  just  left. 

This  journey  was  a  particularly  pleasant  one  for 
me,  as  it  enabled  me  to  foregather  once  more  with 
an  old  and  faithful  friend  in  the  person  of  the 
prince's  secretary,  of  whom  I  had  seen  a  great  deal 
at  the  time  when  he  was  private  secretary  to  Queen 
Victoria  and  who  now  occupies  the  same  position 
under  King  George  V ;  I  refer  to  Sir  Arthur  Bigge. 

Sir  Arthur  belongs  to  that  race  of  servants  of 
the  monarchy  whose  zeal  and  devotion  cease  only 
with  their  death.  He  met  with  a  striking  adven- 
ture at  the  time  of  the  interview  between  Queen 
Victoria  and  the  late  M.  Felix  Faure  at  Nbisy-le- 
Sec.  The  story  has  never  been  told  before;  and  I 
have  no  hesitation  in  publishing  it,  because  it  does 
great  credit  to  the  generosity  of  feeling  of  the  then 
President  of  the  Republic. 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY  305 

The  Queen  was  on  her  way  to  Nice,  that  year, 
and  had  expressed  a  wish  to  meet  M.  Felix  Faure, 
whom  she  did  not  know.  The  interview  was  ar- 
ranged to  take  place  during  the  stop  of  the  royal 
train  at  Noisy  Junction;  and  it  had  acquired  a 
certain  solemnity  owing  to  the  political  circum- 
stances of  the  moment.  We  began  by  witnessing  a 
long  private  conversation  between  the  Queen  and 
the  president  through  the  windows  of  the  royal 
saloon-carriage,  after  which,  in  accordance  with  the 
usual  etiquette,  they  presented  the  members  of 
their  respective  suites.  When  it  came  to  Colonel 
Bigge's  turn,  the  Queen  said  to  M.  Faure,  without 
having  the  least  idea  of  mischief  in  her  mind: 

"My  private  secretary,  Sir  Arthur  Bigge,  who 
enjoys  all  my  confidence  and  all  my  esteem.  Be- 
sides, I  expect  you  know  his  name:  it  was  he  who 
accompanied  the  Empress  Eugenie  on  her  sad 
pilgrimage  to  Zululand  and  helped  her  to  recover 
the  body  of  her  poor  son." 

The  president  bowed,  without  moving  a  muscle 
of  his  face  or  uttering  a  word;  and  Sir  Arthur, 
greatly  embarrassed  by  the  terms  of  the  presenta- 
tion, thought  the  best  thing  for  him  to  do  was  to 
lie  low  and  keep  out  of  the  way.  How  great,  there- 
fore, was  his  surprise  when,  after  everybody  had 
been  presented,  he  heard  his  name  called  by  M. 
Felix  Faure: 


306     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"What  can  he  want  with  me?"  he  asked,  rather 
uneasily. 

As  soon  as  they  were  alone,  the  president  said  to 
him,  point-blank: 

"As  a  Frenchman,  I  wish  to  thank  you  for  the 
devotion  which  you  have  shown  to  one  of  our  fel- 
low-countrywomen in  circumstances  so  terrible  for 
her.  You  behaved  like  a  man  of  heart.  I  con- 
gratulate you." 

M.  Faure  had  the  knack  of  enhancing  the  char- 
acter of  his  office  and  winning  the  respectful 
sympathy  of  foreigners  by  happy  flashes  of  in- 
spiration of  this  kind. 

But  I  am  wandering  from  my  subject.  To  re- 
turn to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  the  cordiality  of  the 
reception  which  he  gave  me  at  Calais  promised  me 
a  charming  journey.  In  point  of  fact,  I  was  able, 
during  the  run  across  France,  to  perceive  how  fond 
both  the  prince  and  princess  were  of  simplicity  and 
gaiety.  They  were  evidently  delighted  to  be  go- 
ing to  India,  although  the  princess  could  not  ac- 
custom herself  to  the  idea  of  leaving  her  children. 
As  for  the  prince,  he  was  revelling  beforehand  in 
the  length  of  the  voyage: 

"One  never  feels  really  alive  except  on  board 
ship,"  he  said  to  me.  "What  do  you  think,  M. 
Paoli?" 

"I  think,  Sir,"  I  replied,  "that  I  must  ask  Your 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY          307 

Royal  Highness  to  allow  me  to  differ.  When  I 
am  on  board  ship,  I  sometimes  feel  more  like  dy- 
ing." 

"You're  not  the  only  one,"  he  retorted,  with  a 
side  glance  at  one  of  his  equerries,  who  stood  with- 
out wincing. 

The  prince  liked  teasing  people ;  but  his  chaff  was 
never  cruel  and  he  accompanied  it  with  so  much 
kindness  that  there  was  no  question  of  taking  of- 
fence at  it.  At  heart,  the  prince  had  remained  the 
middie  that  he  once  was,  a  "good  sort,"  full  of  fun, 
full  of  "go,"  fond  of  laughing  and  interested  in 
everything. 

We  chatted  in  the  train  until  very  late  at  night, 
for  I  did  not  leave  the  prince  until  we  reached 
Modane,  the  station  on  the  Italian  frontier  where 
my  service  ended. 

2. 

I  saw  him  next  at  the  Queen  of  Spain's  wedding; 
and  again  in  1908.  The  prince  and  princess  had 
just  spent  a  week  in  Paris  for  the  first  time  in  their 
lives,  and  were  returning  to  England  delighted  with 
their  stay.  The  special  train  had  hardly  left  the 
Gare  du  Nord,  when  the  Hon.  Derek  Keppel,  who 
was  with  the  prince,  came  to  me  in  my  compart- 
ment: 

"M.  Paoli,"  he  said,  "I  am  commanded  by  Their 


Royal  Highnesses  to  ask  you  to  give  them  the 
pleasure  of  your  company  to  luncheon." 

I  at  once  went  to  the  royal  saloon.  The  prince 
was  chatting  with  M.  Hua,  his  sons'  French  tutor, 
a  very  agreeable  and  scholarly  man  whom  he 
treated  as  a  friend;  the  princess  was  talking  to 
Lady  Eva  Dugdale,  her  lady-in-waiting.  It  goes 
without  saying  that  the  conversation  was  all  about 
Paris  and  the  impressions  which  the  prince  and 
princess  had  received  from  their  trips  to  Ver- 
sailles, Chantilly,  Fontainebleau  and  Chartres. 

"I  can  understand  my  father's  admiration  and 
affection  for  France,"  said  the  prince  to  me.  "It 
is  a  magnificent  country  and  an  interesting  people. 
I  am  glad  that  the  entente  cordiale  has  strength- 
ened the  bonds  of  friendship  between  the  two 
nations.  I  must  come  and  see  you  oftener." 

While  the  prince  was  saying  these  pleasant 
things  to  me,  I  was  surprised  to  observe  his  valet 
depositing  two  apparently  very  heavy  hampers  on 
the  floor  in  the  middle  of  the  carriage;  but  my 
astonishment  was  still  greater  when  I  saw  the 
princess  herself  open  one  of  the  hampers  and  take 
out  a  table-cloth,  plates,  a  chicken,  tumblers,  in 
short,  a  complete  lunch. 

"By  the  way,"  said  the  prince,  "I  forgot  to  tell 
you:  there's  no  restaurant-car  in  the  train,  so  we 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY  309 

are  going  to  have  a  pic-nic  lunch  here.  It  will  be 
much  better  fun!" 

And  it  was.  The  man  put  out  two  folding- 
tables  which  were  in  the  carriage;  and  then,  at  the 
princess's  suggestion,  we  all  helped  to  lay  the  cloth ! 
One  looked  after  the  plates,  another  the  glasses, 
a  third  the  knives  and  forks,  while  the  princess  her- 
self carved  the  cold  fowl. 

When  everything  was  at  last  ready,  we  sat  down 
around  this  makeshift  luncheon-table  and,  with  a 
splendid  will,  did  justice  to  our  meal,  which,  I  may 
say,  was  excellent.  The  proprietor  of  the  Hotel 
Bristol,  who  had  undertaken  to  pack  the  hampers, 
had  had  the  happy  thought  of  adding  a  couple  of 
bottles  of  champagne;  and  these  were  the  cause  of 
an  incident  that  crowned  the  gaiety  of  this  merry 
lunch.  The  prince  declared  that  he  would  open 
them  himself.  Asking  for  the  first  bottle,  he  pre- 
pared to  draw  the  cork  with  a  thousand  cunning  pre- 
cautions ;  but  he  certainly  failed  to  reckon  with  the 
extraordinary  impatience  of  that  accursed  cork, 
which  was  no  sooner  freed  of  its  restraining  bonds 
than  it  escaped  from  the  prince's  hands  and  went  off 
like  a  pistol-shot,  while  the  wine  drenched  the 
princess's  dress.  The  prince  was  very  sorry,  but 
the  princess  laughed  the  thing  off  and  declared  that 
"it  didn't  stain."  She  had  her  skirt  wiped  down  at 


310     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

once  with  water;  and  the  luncheon  finished  as  gaily 
as  it  began. 

I  could  not  give  a  more  striking  instance  than  the 
story  which  I  have  just  told  of  the  charming 
simplicity  of  this  princess,  in  whom  all  the  domestic 
virtues  are  so  prettily  personified.  As  I  was  tak- 
ing leave  of  her  on  board  the  ship  that  was  to  con- 
vey the  illustrious  travellers  from  Calais  to  Dover: 

"Do  come  and  see  us  in  England,"  she  said.  "I 
should  like  to  show  you  my  children :  you  have  never 
met  them." 

"Madam,"  I  replied,  "I  would  do  so  with  pleas- 
ure, if  my  duties  allowed  me  to  take  a  holiday. 
Meanwhile,  may  I  respectfully  remind  Your  Royal 
Highness  that,  on  the  last  journey,  you  promised 
me  the  young  princes'  photograph?" 

"That's  true,"  she  answered,  "I  forgot  all  about 
it.  But,  this  time,  wait."  And,  taking  her  hand- 
kerchief from  her  waistband,  the  princess  made  a 
knot  in  it.  "Now  I'm  sure  to  remember,"  she 
added  with  a  smile. 

And,  two  days  later,  I  received  a  splendid  photo- 
graph of  the  children,  adorned  with  their  mother's 
signature. 

Nearly  three  years  have  passed  since  this  last 
journey  and  I  have  not  had  the  honour  of  seeing 
King  George  and  Queen  Mary  since.  Neverthe- 
less, they  are  good  enough  to  think  of  me  some- 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY          311 

times,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  following  affectionate 
letter  which  my  friend  Sir  Arthur  Bigge  sent  me  on 
my  retirement : 

"MARYBOROUGH  HOUSE, 

"PALL  MALL,  S.  W. 

"Feb'y  28th,  1909. 
"My  Dear  Paoli, — 

"Your  letter  to  me  of  the  24th  inst.  has  been  laid  before 
the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales,  who  received  with  feel- 
ings of  deep  regret  the  announcement  that  you  had  asked 
for  and  obtained  permission  to  retire.  Their  Royal  High- 
nesses are  indeed  sorry  to  think  that  they  will  never  again 
have  the  advantage  of  your  valuable  services  so  efficiently 
and  faithfully  rendered  and  which  always  greatly  con- 
duced to  the  pleasure  and  comfort  of  Their  Royal  High- 
nesses'  stay  in  France.  At  the  same  time  the  Prince  and 
Princess  rejoice  to  know  that  you  will  now  enjoy  a  well- 
merited  repose  after  42  years  of  an  anxious  and  strenuous 
service,  and  they  trust  that  you  may  live  to  enjoy  many 
years  of  health  and  happiness. 

"Their  Royal  Highnesses  are  greatly  touched  by  your 
words  of  loyal  devotion  and  thank  you  heartily  for  these 
kind  sentiments. 

"As  to  myself,  the  thought  of  your  retirement  reminds 
me  that  a  precious  link  with  the  past  and  especially  with 
the  memory  of  your  great  and  beloved  Queen  Victoria  is 
now  broken.  I  remember  so  well  the  first  time  we  met  at 
Modane  when  Her  Majesty  was  travelling  to  Italy  and 
you  will  ever  be  inseparably  connected  in  my  thoughts 
with  those  happy  days  spent  in  Her  Majesty's  service  in 


312     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

France.     I  can  well  imagine  what  interest  you  will  find  in 
writing  your  book  of  reminiscences. 

"Good-bye,  my  dear  Paoli,  and  believe  me  to  be 
"Your  old  and  devoted  friend, 

"AETHUB,  BIGGE." 


3. 

I  intended,  in  this  chapter,  to  speak  of  those 
members  of  the  royal  family  with  whom  my  long 
and  frequent  service  about  the  person  of  Queen 
Victoria  gave  me  the  occasion  to  come  into  contact ; 
and  I  must  not  omit  to  mention  a  princess  now  no 
more,  a  woman  of  lofty  intelligence  and  great  heart, 
whom  life  did  not  spare  the  most  cruel  sorrows  after 
granting  her  the  proudest  destinies.  I  refer  to  the 
Empress  Frederick  of  Germany,  eldest  daughter 
of  Queen  Victoria  and  mother  of  William  II. 

I  made  her  acquaintance  in  rather  curious  cir- 
cumstances. It  was  at  the  naval  review  held  by 
Queen  Victoria  in  1897,  on  the  occasion  of  her  dia- 
mond jubilee.  As  a  special  favour  I  was  invited 
to  see  this  magnificent  sight  on  board  the  Alberta 
and  I  was  gazing  with  wondering  eyes  at  the 
majestic  fleet  of  iron-clads  through  which  the  royal 
yacht  had  just  begun  to  steam,  when  I  heard  a  voice 
behind  me  say,  in  the  purest  Tuscan : 

"Bongiorno,  Signor  Paoli    .     .     ." 

I  turned  round.     A  woman,  still  young  in  bear- 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY          313 

ing,  though  her  face  was  crowned  with  grey  hair 
under  a  widow's  bonnet,  stood  before  me  with  out- 
stretched hand: 

"I  see,"  she  said,  smiling  at  my  surprise,  "that 
you  do  not  know  me.  I  am  the  Empress  Frederick. 
I  have  often  heard  of  you  and  I  wanted  to  know 
you  and  to  thank  you  for  your  attentions  to  my 
mother." 

I  bowed  low,  thinking  what  an  uncommon  occur- 
rence it  must  be  for  a  Frenchman  to  meet  a  Ger- 
man empress,  talking  Italian,  on  an  English  boat; 
and  she  continued : 

"I  know  that  you  are  a  Corsican ;  and  that  is  whjr 
I  am  speaking  to  you  in  your  native  language, 
which  I  learnt  at  Florence  and  which  I  love  as  much 
as  I  do  my  own." 

The  Empress  Frederick,  in  fact,  was  remarkably 
well-educated,  as  are  all  the  English  princesses. 
She  knew  French  as  fluently  as  Italian  and  hardly 
ever  spoke  German,  except  to  the  chamberlain, 
Count  Wedel.  I  was  able  to  see,  during  our  con- 
versation, that  she  took  a  lively  interest  in  my  coun- 
try; she  asked  me  a  thousand  questions  about 
France  and  particularly  about  French  artists: 

"I  am  a  great  admirer  of  M.  Detaille's  works," 
she  said  and  added,  after  a  pause,  "He  is  very  like 
the  Emperor,  my  son.  Don't  you  think  so?" 

I  thought  it  the  moment  for  prudence: 


314     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"I  have  never  had  the  honour  of  seeing  the  Em- 
peror William,"  I  replied,  "and  therefore  I  can- 
not tell  Your  Imperial  Majesty  if  the  resemblance 
has  struck  me." 

She  then  changed  the  conversation  and  spoke  of 
the  celebrations  which  were  being  prepared  in  her 
mother's  honour. 

The  only  other  occasion  on  which  I  saw  her  was 
two  years  later,  when  she  crossed  French  soil  to  go 
from  England  to  Italy.  This  time,  she  was  nerv- 
ous and  ill  at  ease : 

"Do  you  assure  me,"  she  asked,  as  she  landed  at 
Calais,  "that  I  shall  meet  with  no  unpleasantness 
between  this  and  the  Italian  frontier?" 

"Why,  what  are  you  afraid  of,  Ma'am?"  I  asked. 

"You  forget,  M.  Paoli,  that  I  am  the  widow  of 
the  German  Emperor  and  that,  as  such,  I  am  no 
favourite  in  this  country.  Suppose  I  were  recog- 
nised! There  are  memories,  as  you  know,  which 
French  patriotism  refuses  to  dismiss." 

She  was  alluding  not  only  to  the  events  of  1870, 
but  to  the  bad  impression  made  in  Paris  by  the 
visit  which  she  had  paid,  a  few  years  earlier — with- 
out any  ulterior  motive — to  the  ruined  palace  of 
Saint-Cloud,  forgetting  that  it  was  destroyed  and 
sacked  by  the  Prussians.  I  reassured  her,  never- 
theless, and  said  that  I  was  prepared  to  vouch  for 
the  respect  that  would  be  shown  her. 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY          315 

The  journey,  I  need  hardly  say,  passed  off  with- 
out a  hitch.  The  Empress,  with  her  suite,  entered 
the  private  saloon-carriage  of  her  brother,  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  which  was  coupled  to  the  Paris 
mail-train  and  afterwards  transferred  to  the  Nice 
express,  for  the  Empress  was  travelling  to  Bor- 
dighera,  on  the  Italian  Riviera. 

She  dared  not  leave  her  carriage  during  the  short 
stop  which  was  made  in  Paris;  but,  when  we  ar- 
rived at  Marseilles  the  next  morning,  she  said : 

"I  should  awfully  like  to  take  a  little  exercise. 
I  have  been  eighteen  hours  in  this  carriage !" 

"But  please  do,  Ma'am,"  I  at  once  replied.  "I 
promise  you  that  nothing  disagreeable  will  happen 
to  you." 

She  thereupon  decided  to  take  my  advice.  She 
stepped  down  on  the  platform  and  walked  about 
among  the  passengers.  She  was  received  on  every 
side  with  marks  of  deferential  respect — for,  of 
course,  her  incognito  had  been  betrayed,  as  every 
incognito  should  be — and  suddenly  felt  encouraged 
to  such  an  extent  that,  from  that  moment,  she 
alighted  at  every  stop.  Gradually,  indeed,  as  her 
confidence  increased,  she  took  longer  and  longer  in 
returning  to  her  carriage,  so  much  so  that  she  very 
nearly  lost  the  train  at  Nice;  and,  when  I  took 
leave  of  her  at  Bordighera,  she  said,  as  she  gave  me 
her  hand  to  kiss : 


816     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"Forgive  me,  my  fears  were  absurd.  Now,  I 
have  but  one  wish,  to  make  a  fresh  stay  in 
France.  Who  knows?  Perhaps  next  year." 

I  do  not  know  what  circumstances  prevented  her 
from  fulfilling  her  hopes ;  and  the  next  time  I  heard 
of  her  was  at  Queen  Victoria's  funeral.  I  was 
astonished  not  to  see  her  there  and  asked  the  reason 
of  her  chamberlain,  Count  Wedel,  who  sat  beside 
me  in  St.  George's  Chapel  at  Windsor. 

"Alas,"  he  said,  "our  poor  Empress  is  confined 
to  her  bed  by  a  terrible  illness!  Think  how  she 
must  suffer:  her  body  is  nothing  but  a  living  sore!" 

A  few  months  later,  she  was  dead. 

4. 

I  had  only  a  more  or  less  fleeting  vision  of  this 
amiable  sovereign,  whose  fate,  though  not  so  tragic 
as  that  of  the  Empress  Elizabeth  of  Austria,  was 
but  little  happier.  On  the  other  hand,  I  had  op- 
portunities of  coming  into  much  more  frequent  and 
constant  contact  with  two  of  her  sisters,  Princess 
Christian  of  Schleswig-Holstein  and  Princess 
Henry  of  Battenberg. 

Closely  though  these  two  princesses  resemble 
each  other  in  the  admirable  filial  affection  which 
they  showed  their  mother,  they  are  entirely  differ- 
ent in  disposition.  Whereas  the  elder,  who  is  gen- 
erally known  as  the  Princess  Christian,  is  always 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY          317 

ready  to  talk  to  those  about  her,  Princess  Beatrice, 
the  younger,  is  comparatively  silent  and  almost  self- 
contained,  but  without  the  least  affectation  on  her 
part:  in  fact,  I  have  seldom  met  a  princess  more 
simple  in  her  habits  or  more  easy  of  access  to  poor 
folk.  This  contrast  in  their  attitude  towards  Life 
comes,  I  think,  from  a  difference  in  their  tempera- 
ments and  tastes.  The  Princess  Christian  has  in- 
herited the  homely  virtues  of  the  German  prin- 
cesses :  she  interests  herself  mainly  in  philanthropic 
and  social  questions.  The  Princess  Henry,  on  the 
contrary,  feels  a  marked  attraction  for  literature 
and  the  arts,  which  she  cultivates  with  a  real  talent ; 
and,  like  all  those  who  are  endowed  with  an  active 
brain,  she  loves  to  isolate  herself  from  the  outside 
world. 

I  must  say  that  I  never  knew  the  Princess  Chris- 
tian as  well  as  I  did  her  sister,  for  the  very  good 
reason  that  she  did  not  accompany  Queen  Victoria 
to  France  as  often  as  the  Princess  Henry.  Her  ar- 
rival at  Nice  was  usually  later  than  that  of  the 
Queen  and  she  very  seldom  remained  until  the  end 
of  Her  Majesty's  stay. 

I  remember,  however,  that,  one  year,  they  re- 
turned to  England  together ;  and,  in  this  connexion. 
I  can  tell  a  story  which  goes  to  show  how  keenly 
alive  the  great  of  this  earth  can  sometimes  be  to  the 
smallest  attentions  paid  them.  The  royal  train, 


318     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

which  had  left  Nice  in  the  morning,  pulled  up,  at 
five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  as  usual,  at  a  little 
country  station  between  Avignon  and  Tarascon,  in 
order  to  enable  the  Queen  to  take  her  tea  without 
being  inconvenienced  by  the  jolting  of  the  wheels. 
Seeing  me  pacing  the  platform,  the  Princess  Chris- 
tian stepped  out  and  walked  up  and  down  beside 
me.  In  the  course  of  our  conversation,  she  began 
to  talk  about  her  children: 

"When  I  think,"  she  said,  with  a  certain  melan- 
choly, "that  my  daughter  Victoria  will  be  thirty 
years  old  to-morrow — for  to-morrow  is  her  birth- 
day! How  time  flies!" 

Princess  Victoria  was  also  one  of  the  travelling- 
party.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  Princess  Chris- 
tian had  left  me,  I  scribbled  a  telegram  to  the  spe- 
cial commissary  at  Caen,  in  Normandy,  where  we 
were  to  stop  for  a  few  minutes,  on  the  following 
day,  on  our  way  to  Cherbourg,  and  told  him  to 
order  a  bouquet  and  hand  it  to  me  as  the  train 
passed  through. 

The  next  morning,  when  we  entered  the  station 
at  Caen,  I  found  my  bouquet  awaiting  me :  a  mod- 
est spray  consisting  of  all  the  rustic  flowers  of  the 
fields  which  my  worthy  commissary  had  had  gath- 
ered in  the  morning  dew.  I  at  once  presented  it 
to  Princess  Victoria,  wishing  her  many  happy  re- 
turns of  her  birthday;  and  I  cannot  say  which  of 


KING   EDWARD   ON   THE    WAY  TO   CHURCH 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY          319 

the  four  of  us — the  Queen,  the  two  princesses  or 
I — was  most  touched  by  the  loving  gratitude  which 
they  all  three  expressed  to  me. 

5. 

But,  as  I  have  said  above,  of  all  Queen  Vic- 
toria's daughters,  the  one  whom  I  knew  best  was 
the  Princess  Henry  of  Battenberg.  In  point  of 
fact,  she  hardly  ever  left  her  august  mother's  side 
from  the  day  when  her  married  bliss  received  so 
cruel  a  blow  in  the  tragic  death  of  her  husband 
and  when  the  distress  of  mind  found  a  refuge  and 
peace  in  the  affection  of  that  same  mother,  whose 
heart  was  always  filled  with  the  most  delicate  com- 
passion for  every  sorrow. 

A  close  link  had  been  formed  between  those  two 
women:  the  Princess  Henry  had  become  the  con- 
fidant of  Queen  Victoria's  thoughts  and  was  also, 
very  often,  the  intermediary  of  her  acts  of  discreet 
munificence.  At  Nice,  she  occupied  the  magnifi- 
cent Villa  Liserb,  close  to  the  hotel  at  which  the 
Queen  resided.  Here  I  watched  the  games  and  the 
physical  development  of  the  princess's  four  chil- 
dren, Prince  Alexander,  Prince  Maurice,  Prince 
Leopold  and  little  Princess  Ena,  little  thinking  that 
I  should  live  to  see  the  heavy  crown  of  Charles  V 
and  Philip  II  placed  upon  the  pretty,  golden  hair 


320     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

which  was  then  still  done  up  with  pale-blue  ribbons. 
Day  after  day,  for  many  years,  I  saw  those  same 
children  hail  their  grandmother's  appearance  with 
cries  of  delight. 

The  daily  drive  in  the  grounds  of  the  Villa  Liserb 
was  in  fact,  one  of  Queen  Victoria's  favourite 
pleasures.  She  went  there  in  her  chair  drawn  by 
Jacquot,  the  white  donkey,  solemnly  led  by  the 
Hindoo  servant  whose  gaudy  attire,  like  a  mon- 
strous flower,  struck  a  loud  note  of  colour  against 
the  green  of  the  surrounding  foliage.  Slowly  and 
smoothly,  with  infinite  care,  the  little  carriage  ad- 
vanced along  the  garden-paths  which  the  pines, 
eucalyptus  and  olive  trees  shaded  with  their  luxuri- 
ous tresses.  The  Queen,  holding  the  reins  for 
form's  sake,  would  cast  her  eyes  from  side  to  side 
in  search  of  her  grandchildren,  who  were  usually 
crouching  in  the  flower-beds  or  hiding  behind  the 
trees,  happy  in  constantly  renewing  the  innocent 
conspiracy  of  a  surprise — always  the  same — which 
they  prepared  for  their  grandmother  and  which  con- 
sisted in  suddenly  bursting  out  around  her. 

Or  else  a  shuttlecock  of  a  hoop  would  stray  be- 
tween Jacquot 's  legs. 

"Stop,  Jacquot!"  cried  the  children. 

And  Jacquot,  best-tempered  of  donkeys,  would 
stop  all  the  more  readily  as  he  knew  that  his  pa- 
tience would  be  rewarded  with  a  lump  of  sugar. 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY 

The  Princess  Henry  of  Battenberg  spent  long 
hours  in  this  wonderful  smiling  oasis,  dividing  her 
time  between  the  education  of  her  children,  which 
she  supervised  and  directed  in  person,  and  her  own 
intellectual  pursuits,  to  which  she  devoted  herself 
ardently.  She  used  to  draw  and  paint  very  pret- 
tily, at  that  time;  and  she  never  forgot  to  take  her 
sketch-book  with  her  when  accompanying  the  Queen 
on  her  drives  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Nice.  She 
sat  and  sketched  while  tea  was  being  prepared  in 
some  picturesque  spot  where  the  royal  carriage  reg- 
ularly made  a  prolonged  halt. 

She  was  a  first-rate  musician,  played  the  harmo- 
nium on  Sundays  in  the  chapel  of  the  Hotel  Regina 
and  often  went  into  the  Catholic  churches  during 
the  services  in  order  to  listen  to  the  sacred  music, 
which  she  preferred  above  all  others.  In  this  way, 
she  came  to  appreciate  more  particularly  the  talent 
of  a  young  organist  called  Pons,  now  a  distin- 
guished composer,  who,  at  that  time,  used  to  play 
the  organ  at  the  church  of  Notre  Dame  at  Nice. 
This  artist,  who  was  a  native  of  the  south  of  France, 
possessed  a  remarkable  gift  of  improvisation  which 
amazed  the  princess  so  greatly  that  she  was  always 
speaking  of  it  to  the  Queen : 

"You  really  ought  to  hear  him,"  she  would  say. 

"But  he  can't  bring  his  organ  to  the  hotel!"  the 
Queen  replied,  laughing. 


322     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"Why  should  you  not  go  to  his  church?  I  as- 
sure you  that  you  will  not  be  sorry." 

The  Queen,  who  was  easily  persuaded  by  her 
daughter,  ended  by  consenting  to  visit  Notre  Dame 
one  afternoon,  on  condition  that  she  should  be  alone 
there,  with  her  suite,  during  the  little  recital  which 
the  organist  was  to  give  for  her  benefit.  Princess 
Beatrice,  who  was  delighted  at  attaining  her  object, 
plied  me  with  instructions  so  that  the  Queen  might 
have  a  genuine  artistic  surprise : 

"Be  sure  and  see  that  there  is  no  one  in  the 
church,"  she  said  to  me,  "and  tell  M.  Pons  to  sur- 
pass himself." 

I  went  and  called  on  the  rector  and  the  organist. 
The  former  very  kindly  promised  to  take  all  the 
necessary  steps  for  his  Church  to  be  quite  empty 
during  Her  Majesty's  visit.  As  for  M.  Pons,  the 
honour  which  the  Queen  was  doing  him  almost 
turned  his  head  a  little.  He  saw  himself  the  equal 
of  Bach  and  would  have  accosted  Mozart  by  his  sur- 
name if  he  had  met  him  in  the  street." 

"The  Queen  will  be  satisfied,  I  promise  you,"  he 
declared,  in  his  southern  sing-song. 

Things  passed  very  nearly  as  we  hoped.  At  the 
hour  agreed  upon,  the  royal  landau  stopped  before 
the  door  of  the  church;  the  Queen,  accompanied  by 
the  princess  and  a  few  persons  of  her  suite,  includ- 
ing myself,  entered  the  great  nave,  where  only  a  few 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL'  FAMILY          323 

float-lights  lit  up  golden  stars  in  the  spacious  dark- 
ness. When  the  Queen  was  seated  in  the  arm-chair 
which  I  had  sent  on  beforehand,  Pons  began  to  shed 
torrents  of  harmony  upon  our  heads  from  his  organ- 
loft  above. 

Nothing  would  have  disturbed  our  meditation, 
but  for  a  cat,  an  enormous  black  cat,  which,  after 
prowling  behind  the  pillars,  suddenly  came  up  to  the 
royal  chair  unperceived  and  jumped  most  disre- 
spectfully into  Her  Majesty's  lap !  Picture  the  ex- 
citement! We  drove  it  away.  It  returned.  We 
tried  to  drive  it  away  again.  But  it  was  stubborn 
in  its  affections  and  returned  once  more.  There- 
upon the  Queen,  who  was  more  surprised  than  an- 
noyed, resigned  herself  and  accepted  the  curious  ad- 
venture. She  stroked  the  animal  and  kept  it  with 
her  until  the  end  of  the  recital. 

6. 

When  Princess  Henry  of  Battenberg  did  not  ac- 
company her  mother  on  her  drives — which  happened 
very  rarely — she  liked  going  to  the  Empress  Eu- 
genie, who  treated  her  as  a  daughter  and  who,  as 
everybody  knows,  was  the  god-mother  of  Queen 
Victoria  Eugenie  of  Spain.  The  princess  would 
sometimes  spend  the  whole  afternoon  at  the  villa  of 
Napoleon  Ill's  widow;  one  year  indeed,  she  and 
Princess  Ena  stayed  there  all  through  the  winter. 


324     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

Now,  on  this  occasion,  I  happened  to  find  myself 
placed  in  a  very  delicate  position. 

What  occurred  was  this:  the  princess  sent  word 
to  me,  one  day,  with  the  Empress's  consent,  invit- 
ing me  to  dinner  at  the  Villa  Cyrnos.  I  was  at 
first  a  little  perplexed.  It  seemed  to  me  a  rather 
ticklish  matter,  considering  my  official  situation,  to 
figure  at  the  table  of  the  ex-Empress  of  the  French. 
On  the  other  hand,  to  refuse  the  invitation  seemed 
tantamount  to  insulting  the  daughter  of  the  Queen 
of  England,  to  whom  I  was  accredited.  At  last,  I 
resolved  to  swallow  my  scruples  and  accepted. 

That  evening,  after  dinner,  when  thanking  the 
Empress  for  her  kindness,  I  could  not  help  saying : 

"I  suppose,  Madame,  that  there  are  very  few 
officials  of  the  Republic  who  would  have  dared  to 
sit  down  at  Your  Majesty's  table." 

"To  be  equally  frank  with  you,"  the  Empress  at 
once  replied,  laughing,  "I  will  ask  you  to  believe, 
my  dear  M.  Paoli,  that  there  are  also  very  few  of- 
ficials of  the  Republic  whom  I  should  have  cared 
to  see  seated  there  like  yourself!" 

7. 

I  must  not  close  the  story  of  the  periods  which 
I  spent  with  the  royal  family  at  Nice  without  re- 
calling that,  on  some  of  those  occasions,  I  also  met 
the  Marchioness  of  Lome,  now  Duchess  of  Argyll, 


THE  ENGLISH  ROYAL  FAMILY  325 

and  the  Duke  of  Connaught ;  but,  to  tell  the  truth, 
I  only  caught  glimpses  of  them,  because  of  the 
shortness  of  their  visits. 

I  can  also  only  mention  quite  casually  the  name 
of  Queen  Alexandra,  for  the  charming  lady  has 
never  stayed  in  France  for  any  length  of  time. 
With  the  exception  of  two  visits  of  forty-eight 
hours  each,  with  which  she  honoured  Paris  when 
she  went  to  France  with  King  Edward,  she  has  con- 
fined herself  to  passing  through  our  country  on  her 
way  to  Denmark  or  to  join  the  royal  yacht  at  Mar- 
seilles or  Genoa.  On  each  of  the  journeys  during 
which  I  was  attached  to  her  person,  she  gave  me 
every  sign  of  that  captivating  and  bewitching  kind- 
ness of  which  she  alone  appears  to  possess  the  secret. 
I  also  remember  perceiving,  as  do  all  those  who 
approach  her,  the  touching  affection  that  unites  her 
to  her  sister,  the  Dowager  Empress  of  Russia. 
Each  time  that  she  left  her  at  Calais,  to  go  either 
to  Copenhagen  or  to  the  south,  while  the  Empress 
Marie  Feodorovna  was  returning  to  St.  Peters- 
burg, she  never  failed  to  say  to  me,  in  a  voice  full  of 
anxiety : 

"M.  Paoli,  do  take  great  care  of  my  sister. 
Watch  over  her  attentively.  I  shall  not  know  a 
moment's  peace  until  I  hear  that  she  has  arrived  at 
the  end  of  her  journey." 

The  years  have  passed  and  it  is  not  without  pride 


326     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

that  I  reflect  upon  the  fact  that  I  have  known  four 
generations  of  that  glorious  royal  family  of  Eng- 
land! 

But,  alas,  it  makes  me  feel  no  younger!    .     .    . 


X 

THE   KING   OF   CAMBODIA  AND   HIS 
DANCING-GIRLS 


O 


O 


X 

THE   KING  OF   CAMBODIA  AND   HIS 
DANCING-GIRLS 

1. 

1  PROPOSE  to  conclude  this  stroll  through  my 
royal  portrait-gallery  with  the  entertaining 
story  of  the  King  of  Cambodia.  He  was,  so 
to  speak,  my  last  "client,"  at  least  the  last  of  those 
whom  I  was  "protecting"  for  the  first  time,  for  he 
had  never  set  foot  in  France  when,  three  years  ago, 
I  beheld  him,  in  the  bright  light  of  a  fine  morning 
in  June,  greeting  with  a  loud  laugh  the  port  of  Mar- 
seilles, the  gold-laced  officials  who  had  come  to  re- 
ceive him,  the  soldiers,  the  sailors,  the  porters  and 
the  regimental  band. 

For  he  loved  laughing.  Hilarity  with  him  was  a 
habit,  a  necessity;  it  burst  forth  like  a  flourish  of 
trumpets,  it  went  off  like  a  rocket  at  anything  or 
nothing,  suddenly  lighting  up  his  elderly  monkey- 
face  and  revealing  amidst  the  dark  smudge  that 
formed  his  features  a  dazzling  key-board  of  ivory 
teeth. 

Sisowath,  King  of  Cambodia,  struck  me  as  a  little 
329 


330     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

yellow,  dry,  sinewy  man  who  had  been  snowed  upon, 
for  amid  his  hard  stubble  of  shiny  black  hairs  there 
gleamed,  over  the  temples,  patches  of  white  bristles 
that  bore  witness  to  his  five  and  sixty  summers.  He 
still  looked  young,  because  of  the  slightness  of  his 
figure ;  and  his  costume  consisted  of  a  singular  mis- 
cellany of  Cambodian  and  European  garments. 

From  the  knees  to  the  waist,  his  dress  suggested 
the  East.  Starting  from  the  frontier  formed  by 
his  belt,  the  West  resumed  its  rights  and  set  the 
fashion  of  the  day  before  yesterday!  His  feet 
were  clad  in  shoes  resembling  a  bishop's,  with 
broad,  flat  buckles,  whence  rose  two  spindle-shanks 
confined  in  black  silk  stockings  and  ending  in 
a  queer  pair  of  breeches  of  a  thin,  silky,  copper- 
coloured  material,  something  midway  between  a 
cyclist's  knickerbockers  and  a  woman's  petticoat  and 
known  as  the  sampot,  the  national  dress  of  Cam- 
bodia. Over  these  breeches  of  uncertain  cut  fell 
the  graceless  tails  of  an  eighteenth-century  dress- 
coat,  opening  over  a  shirt-front  crossed  by  the 
broad  ribbon  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  Lastly, 
this  astonishing  get-up  was  topped  with  a  rusty  tall 
hat,  dating  back  to  the  year  1830,  which  crowned 
the  monarch's  head. 

All  this  made  him  look  like  a  carnival-reveller 
who  had  come  fresh  from  a  fancy-dress  ball. 
Nevertheless,  he  took  himself  very  seriously;  and 


THE  KING  OF  CAMBODIA  331 

the  French  government  treated  him  with  every 
consideration,  for  he  represented  a  valuable  asset 
in  the  exercise  of  our  protectorate  over  Cambodia. 

Those  acquainted  with  the  traditions  of  the  Cam- 
bodian court  will  know  that,  in  consenting  to  leave 
his  realms  for  a  time  in  order  to  go  to  France,  he 
had  broken  every  religious  and  political  law.  To 
appease  the  just  wrath  of  Buddha  and  relieve  his 
own  conscience,  before  leaving  his  capital,  Pnom- 
Penh,  he  had  sent  magnificent  offerings  to  the 
tombs  of  the  KneKne  kings,  bathed  in  lustral  water 
prepared  by  the  prayers  of  sixty-seven  bonzes,  in- 
voked the  emerald  statue  of  the  god  Berdika  and 
accepted  at  the  hands  of  the  chief  Brahmin  a  leaf 
of  scented  amber,  by  way  of  a  lucky  charm. 

It  was  really  impossible  to  surround  himself  with 
more  potent  safeguards  and  he  had  every  reason  to 
be  in  a  good  humour,  although  he  had  flown  into 
a  great  rage  on  the  passage  at  seeing  his  suite 
abandoning  themselves  to  the  tortures  of  sea-sick- 
ness: 

"I  forbid  you  to  b*e  sick!"  he  shouted  to  them. 
"Those  are  my  orders:  am  I  the  King  or  am  I  not?" 

Distracted  by  the  impossibility  of  obeying,  they 
took  refuge  in  the  depths  of  the  steamer  and  did 
not  reappear  on  deck  until  the  ship  approached  the 
Straits  of  Messina.  And  the  saddened  sovereign 
was  made  to  realise  for  the  first  time  that  he  was 


332     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

not  omnipotent.  The  fact  made  so  great  an  im- 
pression on  his  mind  that,  from  that  time  forward, 
he  became  excessively  and  almost  inconveniently 
polite.  He  shook  hands  with  everybody  he  saw, 
beginning  with  the  flunkeys  at  the  Marseilles  Pre- 
fecture, who  lined  the  staircase  as  he  went  up- 
stairs. 


Keen  as  was  the  interest  taken  by  tKe  public  in 
Sisowath,  it  paled  before  the  curiosity  aroused  by 
his  dancing-girls.  They  formed  an  integral  part 
of  that  extraordinary  royal  suite,  in  which  figured 
three  of  his  ministers,  four  of  his  sons,  his  daughter, 
two  sons  of  King  Norodom,  his  predecessor,  and 
eleven  favourites  accompanied  by  a  swarm  of 
chamberlains,  ladies  of  the  bed-chamber  and  pages : 
women  old  and  young,  at  whose  breasts  hung  hide- 
ous little  stunted,  yellow,  shrieking  imps,  from 
whom  they  had  refused  to  be  separated. 

On  the  other  hand,  amid  the  disorder  of  that 
oriental  horde,  the  corps  de  ballet  constituted  a 
caste  apart,  haughty,  sacerdotal  and  self-contained. 
The  twenty  dancers  came  to  France  preceded  by  a 
great  reputation  for  beauty.  It  may  have  been  the 
result  of  beholding  them  in  a  different  setting, 
under  a  different  sky;  but  this  much  is  certain,  that 


THE  KING  OF  CAMBODIA  333 

they  did  not  appear  to  me  in  the  same  light  in  which 
they  had  been  depicted  to  us  by  enthusiastic  travel- 
lers. 

Sisowath's  dancing-girls  are  not  exactly  pretty, 
judged  by  our  own  standard  of  feminine  beauty. 
With  their  hard  and  close-cropped  hair,  their  figures 
like  those  of  striplings,  their  thin,  muscular  legs 
like  those  of  young  boys,  their  arms  and  hands  like 
those  of  little  girls,  they  seem  to  belong  to  no  defi- 
nite sex.  They  have  something  of  the  child  about 
them,  something  of  the  young  warrior  of  antiquity 
and  something  of  the  woman.  Their  usual  dress, 
which  is  half  feminine  and  half  masculine,  consist- 
ing of  the  famous  sampot  worn  in  creases  between 
their  knees  and  their  hips  and  of  a  silk  shawl  con- 
fining their  shoulders,  crossed  over  the  bust  and 
knotted  at  the  loins,  tends  to  heighten  this  curious 
impression.  But  in  the  absence  of  beauty,  they 
possess  grace,  a  supple,  captivating,  royal  grace, 
which  is  present  in  their  every  attitude  and  gesture ; 
they  have  a  perfume  of  fabled  legend  to  accompany 
them,  the  sacred  character  of  their  functions  to 
ennoble  them;  lastly,  they  have  their  dances  full 
of  mystery  and  majesty  and  art,  their  dances  which 
have  been  handed  down  faithfully  in  the  course  of 
the  ages  and  whose  every  movement,  whose  every 
deft  curve  remains  inscribed  on  the  bas-reliefs  of  the 


334     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

ruins  of  Ankor.  For  these  reasons,  they  are  beau- 
til'ul,  with  the  special  beauty  that  clings  to  remote, 
inscrutable  and  fragile  things. 

They  are  all  girls  of  good  extraction,  for  it  is 
an  honour  much  sought  after  by  the  noble  families 
of  Cambodia  to  have  a  child  admitted  to  the  King's 
troop  of  dancers.  Contrary  to  what  has  some- 
times been  asserted,  the  dancing-girls  do  not  form 
part  of  the  royal  harem ;  they  are  considered  a  sort 
of  vestals;  virginal  and  radiant,  they  perform,  in 
dancing,  a  more  or  less  religious  rite;  and  this  is 
the  only  pleasure  which  they  provide  for  their 
sovereign  lord  the  King. 

When  they  accompanied  Sisowath  to  France, 
they  were  under  the  management  of  the  King's  own 
eldest  daughter,  the  Princess  Soumphady,  an  ugly, 
cross-grained  old  maid  who  ruled  them  with  an  iron 
hand.  The  "stars"  were  four  principal  dancers 
whose  names  seemed  to  have  been  picked,  like  the 
King's  leaves  of  scented  amber,  in  some  sacred 
grove  of  Buddha's  mysterious  realm:  they  were 
called  Mesdemoiselles  Mih,  Pho,  Nuy  and  Pruong. 

3. 

When  the  whole  party  were  landed,  they  had  to 
be  put  up;  and  this  was  no  easy  matter.  The 
Marseilles  Prefecture  was  hardly  large  enough  to 
house  the  King's  fabulous  and  cumbrous  retinue. 


THE  KING  OF  CAMBODIA  335 

We  distributed  its  members  over  some  of  the 
neighbouring  houses;  but  they  spent  their  days  at 
the  Prefecture,  which  was  then  and  there  trans- 
formed into  the  camp  of  an  Asiatic  caravan.  The 
ante-rooms  and  passages  were  blocked  with  pieces 
of  luggage  each  quainter  than  the  other.  Heaped 
up  promiscuously  were  jewel-cases,  dress-trunks, 
cases  of  opium,  bales  of  rice  and  sacks  of  coal,  for 
the  Cambodians,  fearing  lest  they  should  fail  to  find 
in  Europe  the  coal  which  they  use  to  cook  their 
rice,  had  insisted,  at  all  costs,  on  bringing  with  them 
two-hundred  sacks,  which  now  lay  trailing  about 
upon  the  Smyrna  rugs ! 

When,  on  the  evening  of  his  arrival,  I  pushed  my 
way  through  this  medley  of  incongruous  baggage, 
to  present  myself  to  the  King,  of  whom  I  had 
caught  but  a  passing  glimpse  on  the  Marseilles 
quays,  M.  Gautret,  the  colonial  administrator  who 
had  travelled  with  our  guests,  said  to  me: 

"His  Majesty  is  at  dinner,  but  wishes  to  see  you. 
Come  this  way." 

Shall  I  ever  forget  that  audience?  Sisowath  sat 
at  a  large  table,  surrounded  by  his  family,  his 
ministers,  his  favourites  and  his  dancing-girls, 
while,  squatting  in  a  corner  on  the  floor,  were  half- 
a-dozen  musicians — His  Majesty's  private  band — 
scraping  away  like  mad  on  frail-sounding  instru- 
ments. The  King  was  eating  salt-fish  which  had 


336     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

been  prepared  for  him  by  his  own  cooks.  He  was 
the  only  one  to  use  a  knife  and  fork.  The  others 
did  not  care  for  such  luxuries ;  at  intervals,  a  waiter 
handed  round  a  large  gold  bowl  filled  with  rice,  into 
which  ministers,  favourites,  and  dancing-girls 
dipped  their  hands,  subsequently  transferring  the 
contents  to  their  mouths. 

When  M.  Gautret  had  mentioned  my  name  and 
explained  the  nature  of  my  functions,  the  King, 
who  was  gloating  over  his  loathsome  fish,  looked 
up,  gave  me  his  hand  and,  with  his  everlasting 
noisy  laugh,  flung  me  a  few  vapid  monosyllables: 

"Glad  .  .  .  Friend  .  .  .  Long  live 
France!" 

Our  conversation  went  on  no  further  on  that  day. 
The  next  morning,  we  visited  together  the  sights  of 
Marseilles  and  its  Colonial  Exhibition.  Sisowath, 
though  very  loquacious,  was  astonished  at  nothing, 
or  at  least  pretended  not  to  be.  His  dancers  and 
favourites,  on  the  other  hand,  were  astonished  at 
everything.  They  pawed  the  red-silk  chairs  for 
ever  so  long  before  venturing  to  sit  upon  the  ex- 
treme edge,  so  great  was  their  fear  of  spoiling  them: 
most  often,  after  a  preliminary  hesitation,  they 
would  end  by  settling  down  upon  the  floor,  where 
they  felt  more  at  home.  And  yet  they  were  not 
devoid  of  tact,  as  they  showed  when  I  took  them, 
at  the  King's  wish,  to  see  the  fine  church  of  Notre 


THE  KING  OF  CAMBODIA  337 

Dame  de  la  Garde,  which,  from  the  top  of  its  rock, 
commands  a  view  of  the  city,  the  surrounding 
country  and  the  sea.  They  wanted  to  go  up  to  the 
sanctuary  and  entered  it  with  the  same  respectful 
demeanour  which  they  would  have  displayed  in  the 
most  sacred  of  their  own  pagodas.  When  we  ex- 
plained to  them  that  the  thousands  of  ex-votos 
which  adorn  the  walls  of  the  chapel  represent  so 
many  tokens  of  pious  gratitude,  their  eyes,  like  the 
King  of  Thule's,  filled  with  tears  and  they  sud- 
denly prostrated  themselves  just  as  they  might  have 
done  before  the  images  of  their  own  Buddhas. 

During  this  time,  the  King,  who  had  fished  out 
a  pair  of  white  gloves  and  a  white  tie  and  adorned 
his  sampot  with  an  emerald  belt,  stood  smiling  at 
the  Marseillaise,  which  was  being  performed  in  his 
honour,  and,  as  I  afterwards  heard,  smiling  at  the 
fair  Marseillese  as  well. 

Until  then,  I  had  enjoyed  but  a  foretaste  of  the 
life  and  manners  of  the  Cambodian  Court.  The 
stay  which  Sisowath  and  his  suite  were  about  to 
make  in  Paris  was  to  enlighten  me  on  this  subject 
for  good  and  all. 

After  three  days'  driving  through  the  streets  of 
Marseilles,  the  royal  caravan  set  out  for  the  capital, 
where  the  French  government  had  resolved  to  give 
it  an  official  reception  and  to  entertain  it  at  the 
expense  of  the  nation.  With  this  object  in  view, 


338     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

the  government  had  hired  a  private  house  in  the 
Avenue  Malakoff  and  prudently  furnished  it  from 
the  national  depository  with  chairs  and  tables  "that 
need  fear  no  damage." 

Meanwhile,  the  Colonial  Office  had  appointed  me 
superintendent-in-chief  of  this  novel  "palace"  and 
I  had  to  take  up  my  abode  there  during  the  whole 
of  our  royal  guest's  stay.  The  result  was  that,  dur- 
ing the  three  weeks  which  I  spent  amid  these 
picturesque  surroundings,  I  enjoyed  all  the  attrac- 
tions of  the  most  curiously  exotic  life  that  could 
possibly  be  imagined. 

The  bed-room  allotted  to  me  opened  upon  the 
passage  containing  the  King's  apartments ;  so  that 
I  may  be  said  to  have  occupied  a  front  seat  at  the 
permanent  and  delicious  entertainment  provided  by 
the  Cambodian  court  for  the  benefit  of  those  ad- 
mitted to  its  privacy. 

What  struck  me  first  of  all  was  the  indiscreet 
familiarity  of  His  Majesty's  family  and  favourites. 
Princes,  ministers  and  favourites,  spent  their  lives 
in  the  passages  and  walked  in  and  out  of  my  room 
with  an  astonishing  absence  of  constraint  and  in 
the  airiest  of  costumes.  If  I  happened  to  be  at 
home,  they  paid  no  attention  to  my  presence:  they 
explored  the  room,  poked  about  in  the  corners, 
tried  the  springs  of  my  bed,  asked  me  for  ciga- 
rettes, examined  my  brushes  and  combs,  smiled  and 


THE  KING  OF  CAMBODIA  339 

went  away.  When  I  was  out,  they  entered  just 
the  same,  emptied  my  cigar  and  cigarette-boxes, 
sat  down  on  my  carpet  and  exchanged  remarks  that 
may  have  been  jocular  for  all  I  know:  I  never  found 
out. 

Anxious  to  avoid  any  sort  of  friction,  I  made  no 
complaint.  I  contented  myself  with  locking  up 
my  personal  belongings  and  replacing  my  boxes  of 
Havanas  with  boxes  of  penny  cigars;  but  my 
plunderers  held  different  views;  the  ladies,  es- 
pecially, who  had  learnt  to  distinguish  between  good 
cigars  and  common  "Senateurs"  expressed  their 
rage  and  vexation  with  violent  gestures  and  re- 
solved thenceforth  to  give  me  the  cold  shoulder — 
which  was  more  than  I  had  hoped  for. 

There  remained  another  drawback  to  which  I 
had,  willy-nilly  to  submit  until  the  end.  It  con- 
sisted of  Sisowath's  unpleasant  habit  of  walking 
up  and  down  the  passages  at  night,  talking  and 
laughing  with  his  suite,  while  his  orchestra  tinkled 
out  the  "national"  airs  to  an  accompaniment  of 
tambourines  and  cymbals  and  while  the  brats  kept 
crying  and  squalling,  notwithstanding  the  efforts 
of  their  mothers,  who  put  lighted  cigarettes  be- 
tween the  children's  lips  to  make  them  stop.  It 
was  simply  maddening;  and,  when  I  tried  to  make 
a  discreet  protest,  I  was  told  that,  as  His  Majesty 
took  a  siesta  during  the  day,  he  had  no  need  for 


340     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

sleep  at  night.  The  argument  admitted  of  no  re- 
ply and  I  had  to  accept  the  inevitable. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  enjoyed  a  few  compensa- 
tions. I  was  invited,  from  time  to  time,  to  assist 
at  the  King's  toilet  when  he  donned  his  gala  clothes 
to  go  to  an  official  dinner  or  a  ceremony  of  one  kind 
or  another.  After  he  had  finished  his  ablutions— 
for  he  was  always  very  particular  about  his  person 
— his  wives  proceeded  to  dress  him.  They  helped 
him  into  a  gorgeous  green  and  gold  sampot  and  a 
brocaded  tunic  and  put  round  his  throat  a  sort  of 
necklace  resembling  the  gorget  of  a  coat  of  mail 
and  made  of  dull  gold  set  with  precious  stones, 
ending  at  the  shoulders  in  two  sheets  of  gold  that 
stuck  out  on  either  side  like  wings.  They  next 
girt  his  waist,  arms  and  ankles  with  a  belt  and 
bracelets  encrusted  with  exquisite  gems.  Lastly, 
they  took  away  his  rusty  and  antiquated  old  "top- 
per" and  gave  him  in  exchange  a  wide  Cambodian 
felt  hat,  surmounted  by  a  kind  of  three-storied 
tower  running  into  a  point,  adorned  with  gold 
chasings  and  literally  paved  with  diamonds  and 
emeralds.  Thus  attired,  Sisowath  looked  very 
grand:  he  resembled  the  statue  of  a  Hindoo  god 
removed  from  its  pagoda. 

Nevertheless,  western  civilisation  began  stealthily 
to  exert  its  formidable  influence  over  his  tastes,  if 
not  his  habits.  We  had  not  been  a  week  in  Paris 


THE  KING  OF  CAMBODIA  341 

before  our  guest  thought  it  better,  on  his  afternoon 
excursions,  to  replace  the  sampot  with  the  conven- 
tional European  trousers  and  his  out-of-date  cut- 
away with  a  faultless  frock-coat.  But  for  his  yel- 
low complexion,  his  slanting  eyes  and  his  woolly 
hair,  he  would  have  looked  a  regular  dandy! 

Ever  eager  to  appear  good-natured  and  polite, 
he  kissed  the  daughters  of  the  hall-porter  at  the 
Colonial  Office,  each  time  he  went  to  the  Pavillion 
de  Flore,  and  shook  hands  with  the  messengers  at 
the  Foreign  Office  and  with  all  the  salesmen  at 
the  Bon  Marche,  which  he  made  a  point  of  visiting. 
Again,  when  passing  through  the  Place  Victor- 
Hugo,  he  never  failed  to  take  off  his  hat  with  a 
great  flourish  to  our  national  poet.  Lastly,  I  had 
the  greatest  difficulty  in  keeping  him  from  sending 
sacred  offerings  to  the  tomb  of  Napoleon  I,  "whom 
we  hold  in  veneration  in  Cambodia,"  he  explained 
to  me  through  the  interpreter.  Hearing,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  European  sovereigns  are  ac- 
customed to  leave  their  cards  on  certain  official 
personages,  he  asked  me  to  order  him  a  hundred 
worded  as  follows: 


PREAS  BAT  SOMDACH  PREAS  SISOWATH 
CHOM  CHAKREPONGS. 


342     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

4. 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  the  ever  fresh  surprises 
which  Paris  had  in  store  for  him  and  of  their  un- 
doubted attraction  for  his  mind,  the  King  soon 
began  to  feel  a  certain  lassitude: 

"Paris,"  he  said  to  me,  "is  a  wonderful,  but  tir- 
ing city.  The  houses  are  too  high  and  there  are 
too  many  carriages.  How  is  it  that  you  still  al- 
low horse-carriages?  If  I  were  the  master  here, 
I  would  abolish  them  and  allow  nothing  but  mo- 
tors." 

When  he  had  visited  the  public  buildings  and 
done  the  sights  and  been  to  Fontainebleau  and  Ver- 
sailles and  Compiegne  and  had  the  mechanism  of 
the  phonographs  and  cinematographs  explained  to 
him  he  began  to  bore  himself.  He  then  thought 
of  his  dancing-girls,  whom  he  had  left  behind  at 
Marseilles,  and  sent  for  them  to  Paris  on  the  pre- 
text of  exhibiting  them  at  a  garden-party  given  by 
the  president  of  the  republic  at  the  Elysee.  One 
fine  morning,  they  all  landed  at  the  Gare  de  Lyon, 
a  little  bewildered,  a  little  flurried,  in  the  charge  of 
the  grim  Princess  Soumphady,  who  was  dressed 
in  a  violet  sampot,  with  a  stream  of  diamonds  round 
her  neck.  They  arrived  looking  like  so  many  lost 
sheep,  accompanied  by  their  six  readers,  their  eight 
singers,  their  four  dressers,  their  two  comedians 
and  their  six  musicians. 


THE  KING  OF  CAMBODIA  343 

TKe  dancers'  advent  created  quite  a  sensation 
in  the  district  of  the  Avenue  Malakoff .  They  were 
quartered  opposite  the  royal  "palace,"  in  a  building 
at  the  back  of  a  courtyard,  and,  when  at  last  good 
King  Sisowath  saw  them  from  his  balcony,  a  broad 
smile  of  happiness  lit  up  his  yellow  face. 

They  rehearsed  their  ballets  every  morning  in 
a  large  room  that  did  duty  as  a  theatre.  I  was  al- 
lowed to  look  on,  as  a  special  favour,  and  I  was 
thus  able  to  watch  pretty  closely  those  curious  and 
amazingly  artistic  little  creatures  and  their  dances. 

Their  ballets  always  began  with  a  musical  pre- 
lude performed  upon  brass  and  bamboo  instru- 
ments. Then,  while  some  of  the  women  struck  up 
a  religious  chant  and  others  clapped  their  hands  in 
measured  time,  the  dancers  left  the  group  one  by 
one,  shooting  out  and  meeting  in  the  ring;  and  a 
regular  fanciful,  childish  drama  was  suggested  by 
their  movements,  their  gestures  and  their  attitudes, 
which  contrasted  strangely  with  the  sacerdotal  re- 
pose of  their  features.  They  looked,  at  one  time, 
like  large,  living  flowers;  at  another,  like  auto- 
matic dolls. 

The  dances  provided  an  odd  medley  of  Moorish 
and  Spanish  steps.  Sometimes,  the  stomach  would 
sway  to  and  fro,  as  though  one  were  watching  a 
dance  of  Egyptian  almes;  at  other  times,  the  legs 
quivered  and  the  dancer  stamped  her  feet,  raised 


544     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

her  arms,  jerked  her  hips  as  though  she  meant  to 
give  us  some  Andalusian  jota  or  habanera.  And 
in  those  faces,  which  seemed  inanimate  beneath 
their  fixed  smiles,  nothing  allowed  the  inner  feel- 
ings of  the  soul  to  penetrate:  yet  what  suggestive 
mimicry  was  there,  what  harmonious  poses  and 
what  marvellous  costumes! 

The  Cambodian  ballet-girls,  when  dancing  in 
public,  wear  clothes  that  are  simply  fairy-like. 
They  have  bodices  of  silk  stitched  with  gold  and 
adorned  with  precious  stones.  These  bodices  are 
very  heavy  and  are  fitted  upon  them  and  sewn  be- 
fore each  performance,  so  they  form  as  it  were  a 
new  skin  and  reveal  with  a  clearness  that  is  noth- 
ing short  of  impressive  the  slightest  undulations  of 
the  body. 

The  dressers  take  two  or  three  hours  to  clothe 
the  dancers,  after  which  they  paint  the  girls'  faces 
and  deck  them  out  with  bracelets,  necklaces  and 
rings  of  priceless  value.  Sometimes  also  the 
dancers'  fingers  are  slipped  into  long,  bent,  golden 
claws,  which  describe  harmonious  curves  in  space. 

Lastly,  the  head-dress  consists  of  either  the 
traditional  pnom — a  sort  of  pointed  hat,  all  of  gold 
and  fastened  on  by  clutches  that  grip  the  head — 
or  a  wreath  of  enormous  flowers,  or  else  of  a  pale- 
tinted  silk  handkerchief  rolled  low  over  the  temples. 

The  dancers  and  their  dances  achieved,  as  may 


THE  KING  OF  CAMBODIA  345 

be  imagined,  no  small  success,  first  at  the  Elysee 
and  afterwards  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  where  a 
gala  performance  was  given,  in  the  open-air 
theatre  of  the  Pre  Catelan,  by  the  light  of  the 
electric  lamps.  Between  whiles,  they  took  drives 
through  Paris,  which  gave  rise  to  all  sorts  of  as- 
tonished and  enthusiastic  manifestations  on  their 
part,  much  to  the  delight  of  their  guides;  for  they 
had  the  mental  attitude  of  little  girls  and,  when, 
after  a  week,  they  had  to  go  back  to  Marseilles, 
where  they  formed  the  principal  attraction  at  the 
Colonial  Exhibition,  their  despair  was  something 
immense.  It  was  as  much  as  we  could  do  to  console 
them  by  presenting  them  all  with  mechanical  rab- 
bits and  unbreakable  dolls. 

And  the  King,  once  more,  was  bored.  He  was 
so  thoroughly  bored  that,  a  few  days  after  the  de- 
parture of  his  ballet-girls,  he  resolved  to  go  and 
spend  a  couple  of  days  at  Nancy,  in  order  to  see 
a  dozen  or  two  young  Cambodians  who  had  been 
attending  the  local  industrial  school  for  the  last 
twelve-month.  The  organising  of  this  visit  was 
very  troublesome,  for  the  King  had  acquired  a 
taste  for  military  display  and  insisted  upon  being 
received  at  Nancy  with  full  honours,  such  as  he 
had  been  used  to  in  Paris.  Worse  still,  the  trip 
very  nearly  ended  in  disaster,  entirely  through 
Sisowath's  own  fault. 


346     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

The  inhabitants  of  Nancy,  amused  and  delighted 
by  the  show  of  Oriental  luxury  that  met  their  eyes, 
gave  the  King  an  enthusiastic  ovation  far  in  ex- 
cess of  his  expectations.  His  gratitude  was  such 
that,  on  the  evening  of  his  arrival,  he  took  it  into 
his  head  to  manifest  his  delight  by  flinging  hand- 
fuls  of  silver  through  the  windows  of  the  Prefec- 
ture to  the  crowd  that  stood  cheering  him  on  the 
Place  Stanislas!  The  reader  can  picture  the  ef- 
fect of  this  beneficent  shower.  Suddenly,  loud 
cries  and  shouts  were  heard  and  a  regular  battle 
was  fought  in  front  of  the  Prefecture,  for  one  and 
all  wished  to  profit  by  the  royal  largesse. 

I  at  once  rushed  up  to  the  King  and  begged  him 
to  stop  this  dangerous  game.  But  Sisowath,  who 
was  madly  diverted  by  the  sight,  positively  refused 
to  yield  to  my  entreaties.  He  even  asked  to  have  a 
thousand-franc  note  changed  for  gold. 

Seeing  that  persuasion  was  of  no  avail,  I  took 
a  quick  and  bold  resolve.  I  had  him  removed  from 
the  window  by  force,  undeterred  by  the  insults  with 
which  he  overwhelmed  me  in  the  Cambodian  tongue. 

But  I  had  not  yet  come  to  the  end  of  my  emo- 
tions :  a  serio-comic  incident  followed  apace.  Siso- 
wath, suddenly  evading  the  watchfulness  of  my  in- 
spectors, who  dared  not  detain  him  like  a  common 
malefactor,  escaped,  darted  down  the  stairs,  four 
steps  at  a  time,  opened  a  window  on  the  ground 


THE  KING  OF  CAMBODIA  347 

floor  and,  with  hoarse  cries,  began  to  fling  into 
the  square  all  the  louis  d'or  which  he  had  in  his  pos- 
session. The  moment  he  heard  us  coming,  quick  as 
lightning  he  was  off  and  flew  to  another  window. 
For  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  a  mad  steeple-chase  was 
kept  up  through  all  the  rooms  of  the  Prefecture, 
amid  the  roars  of  the  excited  crowd  in  the  streets. 

Fortunately,  the  King  soon  grew  tired  and  ac- 
cepted his  defeat.  As  for  me,  I  naturally  looked 
upon  my  disgrace  as  assured.  But  Sisowath, 
thank  goodness,  was  not  vindictive.  The  next 
morning,  he  gave  me  his  hand  and,  bursting  into 
loud  laughter,  contented  himself  with  saying: 

"Very  funny!" 

5. 

A  week  later,  he  took  ship  at  Marseilles,  with  his 
court,  to  return  to  Cambodia.  When  I  said  good- 
bye to  him  on  the  deck  of  the  steamer,  he  appeared 
heart-broken  at  having  to  leave  our  country. 
Heart-broken,  too,  seemed  the  little  dancing-girls 
squatting  at  the  foot  of  the  mast,  with  their 
mechanical  rabbits  and  their  unbreakable  dolls — the 
last  keepsake  to  remind  them  of  their  stay  in  Paris 
— which  they  squeezed  fondly  in  their  arms. 

When,  at  length,  the  hour  of  parting  had  struck, 
good  King  Sisowath,  greatly  moved,  called  me  to 
his  side: 


348     THEIR  MAJESTIES  AS  I  KNEW  THEM 

"Here,"  he  said.     "Present  for  you." 
And  he  handed  me  a  parcel  done  up  in  a  pink- 
silk  handkerchief. 

As  soon  as  I  was  on  shore,  I  hastened  to  open 
it;  to  my  great  confusion,  it  contained  a  splendid 
sampot  made  of  fine  cloth  of  gold.  The  King  of 
Cambodia  had  presented  me  with  his  state  breeches, 
which  were  all  that  remained  to  me  of  my  last 
"client"  and  of  my  Oriental  dreams ! 


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